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Something Back
by Sian
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Chapter Six

Note: As always, gracious thanks go to Fim!


Gil-galad stared into Elrond's shining eyes. He did not hear Arwen depart, leaving them alone.

"May I join you?" Elrond asked, moving forward towards the bench Gil-galad occupied.

"Of course. It is after all your gardens," Gil-glad replied, still slightly angry from his earlier conversation with Arwen. Of all the suspicions he had expected to encounter, that anyone could think he wished to cause Elrond harm was the most laughable of them all. No, Gil-galad thought, before this was over, it was his own heart that stood to get hurt. He desperately wanted to come right out and ask the half-Elf if there was still room for him in Elrond's heart.

Elrond sat silently beside him. Each knew not where to begin. Gil-galad observed the Peredhel. Just as he had once been able, so it was again that he could sense Elrond's unease. It seemed as though the habit of the younger seeking wisdom from his elder occurred once again. Gil-galad took one of Elrond's hands and brought it to his lips, and placed a gentle kiss upon that healing hand. "Speak, Elrond. Tell me what is troubling your heart." Gil-galad waited silently for the half-Elf to gather his thoughts.

Elrond spoke hesitatingly as if he expected his words to anger. "Much time has passed, Ereinion. We are not the same Elves we once were" he swallowed and looked down into his lap, unable to bear Gil-galad's gaze. Finally, after several awkward moments he looked up, his eyes beseeching the King to understand. "We cannot simply pick up where we left off. Too much time has passed for that."

Gil-galad looked fully into that pleading gaze, letting Elrond see the pain that darkened his own deep cobalt orbs. Gil-galad tore his eyes away, unable to stand the silent begging for understanding. He did not understand! Had the Valar sent him back for this? Was this, then, his punishment for all past deeds, to live on Arda once again within arm's reach of his heart's desire only to be denied it day after day?

Gil-galad gave a bitter laugh, not caring that Elrond flinched. He flung the half-Elf's hand off, jumped up, and turned his back upon the Peredhel. For the very first time ever, he did not want to look upon Elrond's lovely face, not when he may never be able to touch it once again.

His entire frame trembled and he had to clench his fist and fight the urge to scream to the very skies in injustice. When he spoke, his voice was heart-rendingly bitter, Ages of pain evident in its tone. "Do you still have love in your heart for me, Elrond?" He turned to face the Elf-lord. If this was the moment the moment when his heart was going to splinter, then he would face it like the warrior he had been.

Elrond's face was shattered, his eyes filled with unhappiness and desolation. For just a second, Gil-galad was tempted to rush forward and take the younger Elf in his arms and comfort him; promise him anything only to wipe the suffering from his beloved features. But he locked his legs, refusing to move until he knew if this second life was punishment or a joyous reward.

Elrond appeared to struggle to speak. "I-I still love you, Ereinion. That has never changed," he whispered.

"But?" Gil-galad demanded, the "but" all too evident in Elrond's tone. Elrond, however was silent a little too long for the former King's patience. "Is love no longer enough for you, Elrond?"

"No, Ereinion. I need tim-" Elrond whispered, but was unable to finish before Gil-galad's cry.

The anguished cry escaped Gil-galad's lips before he could stop it. He turned, needing to escape, unwilling to let Elrond see him crumble so completely. But before he could flee, Elrond rose and moved towards him. Gil-galad stopped the half-Elf with a raised hand that trembled.

"Ereinion, wait, please," Elrond cried. "I just wish for a chance! A chance for us to get to know each other again, for my family to learn to accept us."

Elrond's words hardened Gil-galad's features. His dark blue eyes burned fiercely in rage and hurt. "I have not changed Elrond. For millennia I existed in Mandos' Halls, only my memories of you to comfort me. No wife or children did I take," he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. He smiled bitterly at Elrond's flinch, taking perverse pleasure in causing the Peredhel pain. "I am the same Elf I was when I stood on Orodruin and faced the Dark Lord. It is you, my Lord, who has changed. As it was before, Elrond, my love was all I ever had to offer you, and once upon a time, it was enough." Gil-galad moved forward slowly, closing the distance between them. He cupped Elrond's face, thumbs brushing his tears away. "You, melethron, must decide if my love is enough for the Elf you are now." Gil-galad moved away and started to turn but paused and sent his heart a sad smile. "How can you expect your family to accept me, melethen, if you yourself do not?" Gil-galad left. He left before his pride completely crumbled and he stayed and begged.

Gal-galad sought out the only sanctuary he had in Elrond's realm, the room he had been assigned. The path back to his quarters led past Imladris' vast libraries, and he was almost past the open door when a voice from inside called his name. "My Lord, Gil-galad?"

Gil-galad recognized that voice. Erestor. He thought about moving on, avoiding what he knew would be a lecture. Elrond's Chief Councilor had always known before anyone else when his Lord was upset and Erestor's loyalty had also always only belonged to the half-Elf. Gil-galad shook his head in disgust. He was turning into a regular coward, afraid to face Elrond's Advisor. Stiffening his spine, he moved into the bright and airy room, greeting the dark Elf with a short almost ironic bow. "Yes, my Lord Erestor? What can I do for you?"

The somberly attired Elf had risen up from behind his desk and was regarding the former High King with what seemed to be compassion. Compassion, from Elrond's stoic Councilor? Surely not. Erestor indicated a seat across from his desk. Gil-galad raised a brow and calmly sat. "Get it over with, Erestor. Tell me what you think I am doing to your Lord and get it out of your system." Gil-galad saw a flash of uncertainty flash across the Advisor's face and he appeared to be contemplating something serious.

Erestor sat and folded his hands atop his desk. "I wanted to offer you my services, Sire." Erestor allowed a small smile to show at the surprise Gil-galad was unable to mask.

"You services? For what may I ask, Erestor?" Gil-galad regarded the Elf with wariness.

Erestor calmly replied to the former King's suspicion. "You have been in the Halls for quite some time and much on Arda has changed. I am offering my services in advising you on what you have missed."

Gil-galad sat silently thinking about the Councilors offer. The idea had merit. He had been gone and a great many events had occurred in his absence that had reshaped Arda. Erestor was probably the smartest Elf on Arda and he was offering his services. Gil-galad looked at the Elf calmly regarding him. "Yes, Erestor, I believe you are correct. I could use your services in familiarizing myself with current events." Gil-galad rose and moved towards the door. He paused and turned back to Elrond's Chief Advisor. "Hannon le Erestor." Gil-galad left after receiving the other Elf's nod of acknowledgement and went toward his room.

He was approaching the corridor leading to his chambers when he saw Elrond pacing in front of the door leading to his room. He faltered, not wanting to face the half-Elf so soon after the incident in the garden. But Elrond spotted him and came towards him his stride desperate and his face anguished. "I thought you had left," he cried out. Elrond grabbed a surprised Gil-galad and wrapped him in a tight embrace.

Gil-galad unconsciously wrapped his own arms around Elrond. "N-no," he stammered. "I was speaking to Erestor." He tried to loosen Elrond's arms but the half-Elf only clutched him tighter. "Elrond?" he questioned his tone worried.

Elrond did not answer. He pulled slightly away and before Gil-galad could question him further, he captured Gil-galad's lips in a frantic kiss.


Chapter Seven

Elrond's mouth hungrily devoured Gil-galad's; using the other's surprise, he thrust his tongue inside, reclaiming familiar territory. It took mere seconds for Gil-galad's shock to abate and for him to seize control of Elrond's lips. Hunger roared through him as his senses were flooded by the sweet taste of Elrond's mouth. His arms came up to crush the half-Elf to him, and his hands greedily roamed the robe-clad form. Sounds, their precarious position in the open corridor, all disappeared as he was thrust back into feelings not felt in Ages. His body responded as it had not for any other. Elrond's whimpers and desperate hold on him undid the last of Gil-galad's control and he picked the half-Elf up, kicking the door to his room open and slamming it shut behind him. He stumbled to the bed, his mouth still devouring Elrond's. They fell upon the bed and Gil-galad rose up, legs on either side of Elrond's hips. His hands were frantic, clumsy, as he tried to get past the formal robes with their elaborate buttons and hooks. Every time he attempted to break his mouth free from Elrond's kiss, the half-Elf moaned and arched back up, reclaiming Gil-galad's lips again.

"E-Elrond, wait-let me-," Gil-galad tried to get out in between frantic kisses.

Gil-galad growled, his patience ended. He captured the half-Elf's hands and brought them over Elrond's head, holding them tight against the bed. His mouth slid across high cheekbones and found a delicate ear. His tongue traced a path up the outer shell before slowly circling the tip. Elrond moaned, his body gradually calming under the gentle caresses of Gil-galad's mouth and tongue. Gil-galad slowly slid his hands down Elrond's raised arms. His fingers, more steady now, undid the clasps of Elrond's formal robes. He parted the rich fabric and his lips descended to the freed skin of Elrond's neck and collarbone. He sucked and gently nipped along the half-Elf's throat, swiping his tongue over the sting his bite left.

Elrond plunged his hands into Gil-galad's rich tresses before moving them down to tug at the larger Elf's tunic. "Off," he murmured.

Gil-galad pulled back only long enough to comply with Elrond's request before his own hands set about removing the half-Elf's undershirt. He groaned as the slightly golden-toned flesh was revealed. Gil-galad's mouth watered at the sight of Elrond's pink nipples and he leaned down, immediately drawing one into his mouth. Elrond's body arched and he gave a gasp as Gil-galad began to suck. Elrond's hands shook as they roamed Gil-galad's powerful shoulders and back; every draw, nibble, and tug upon his nipple sent heat straight to his groin.

"Too fast," Elrond whispered. He started to panic. Desire rushed through him and he began to shake. Too long, it had been too long since he had felt anything like this. This loss of control, the fire in his very veins, the ache to surrender, was all too much for him to handle. "Stop, please, Ereinion," Elrond pleaded, pushing against the body atop his.

The struggles of the Elrond's body under his did not register; it was only as he trailed his tongue down Elrond's chest to circle the waistband of his leggings that the whimper reached his ears. Gil-galad froze, his eyes rose to meet the frightened gray gaze of Elrond.

"Too much, too fast, Ereinion," Elrond whispered, his voice trembling.

Gil-galad groaned and rolled off Elrond's body and onto his back.

"I am sorry," Elrond whispered as he moved off the bed. He stood uncertainly, looking down at Gil-galad. Nervously he straightened his robes and hair. "I did not mean for things to go so far, Ereinion. I panicked when I saw this empty room."

Gil-galad said nothing. He was too busy trying to calm his raging arousal. He lay with one arm thrown across his eyes and listened, amazed, as Elrond babbled. Something about a feast and how everyone had worked hard on it all day. The Peredhel had not stopped talking since rising from the bed. This nervous chatter was not like Elrond, and Gil-galad finally had enough control of himself to sit up and look at the Peredhel. He had not moved from beside the bed and was closely watching Gil-galad as if he knew not what to expect. Gil-galad frowned up at the half-Elf; he was truly puzzled by Elrond's behavior. First he almost attacked him in the hall, devouring Gil-galad's mouth ravenously as if it he was starved. Then the passion between them had swept both away. It had felt so good to hold and caress Elrond, but the half-Elf had pulled away with panic in his eyes. And now, this insane storm of words, meaningless chatter, and all the while Elrond stayed, appearing to not want to leave Gil-galad's side.

"Elrond," Gil-galad interrupted the half-Elf. "What are you doing, pen vuil?"

Elrond stopped speaking. His shoulders slumped and he sat back upon the bed beside Gil-galad. His head was bowed and his chestnut locks hide his face. They both were silent, until Elrond raised his head and Gil-galad saw the tears in the half-Elf's eyes. Gil-galad's own throat grew tight and he pulled the unresisting Elf into his arms. Elrond tightly clutched him and his body shook as Gil-galad held him and rubbed soothing hands on his back. Gil-galad kept quiet, letting Elrond gain control over his emotions, waiting for him to speak and tell him what was in his heart.

"I feel lost, Ereinion. I cannot gain any balance and my world feels tilted and unstable. For the first time in so very long, I do not know what to do," Elrond whispered his head still buried in Gil-galad's chest.

"Geheno nin, melethen." Gil-galad spoke softly, a hint of resignation in his voice.

Elrond pulled back and looked up at Gil-galad. "For what, Ereinion?"

Gil-galad released Elrond from his hold and rose, pacing the confines of the room. "I have been so caught up in how I felt to back. How I felt to see you again. It took time for me to work up the courage to come to you, Elrond. That is why I stayed so long hidden in LothLórien. Being back on Arda, the very thought of once again holding you in my arms…this overwhelmed me. Time has no meaning for one in Mandos' Halls. Time passes, but it has no effect, no impact." Gil-galad stopped and turned to look at Elrond. The half-Elf was watching him, a serious look upon his fair features.

"Go on, Ereinion," he urged.

Gil-galad took a deep breath, needing to explain to his love how it was for a faer in the Timeless Halls. How all the faer had was its memories.

"It is halted, Elrond. Everything you are. Everything that you felt, experienced, loved, is stopped that exact moment when life leaves your body. You enter the Halls and you do not change. Who you were, what you believed in, who you loved, it stays timeless and unchanged. There is no moving on in Mandos' Halls, Elrond. So when I was returned, the Ages that had passed were nothing more than flashes of remembered pain. I arrived as if I never left," Gil-galad paused, struggling to put into words what his heart bled for Elrond to understand. "For you have moved forward, Elrond, you had your chance to grieve, to learn to live without me. But, to me it is yesterday that I made love to you. It was but a day ago that we rose and donned our armor and faced the Dark Lord. For me, melethen, my death was but a moment ago." Gil-galad whispered the last words, watching as Elrond's eyes filled with heartbreak.

Pen vuil-dear One
Lover-Melethron
My love-Melethen
Forgive Me-Geheno nin


Chapter Eight

"To me it was yesterday that I made love to you. It was but a day ago that we rose and donned our armor and faced the Dark Lord. For me, melethen, my death was but a moment ago." Gil-galad whispered the last words, watching as Elrond's eyes filled with heartbreak.

Gil-glad watched as Elrond lowered his head. He said nothing as the silence between them grew thick and uncomfortable. Gil-galad was beyond the point of anger; an hollow feeling settled in his heart. His words had made no impact; did not bridge the gulf of time that Elrond said divided them. Elrond still pushed him away, and he did not comprehend why. His shoulders slumped and he turned away from Elrond, moving back to the window, watching as Imladris was bathed in the setting rays of Anor. The silence was finally shattered by a knock upon Gil-galad's door.

"Yes," he called out, without turning from the window.

"My Lord Gil-galad, I am looking for Lord Elrond," a servant's voice rang out behind the closed door.

Elrond left the bed, and Gil-galad heard him open the door and speak quietly to the servant. Gil-galad did not turn and he could feel Elrond's indecision, to stay or go, but Gil-galad still said nothing.

"I have to go, Ereinion. Erestor says it's important, and he would not disturb me otherwise," Elrond hovered by the door, waiting for some acknowledgment that Gil-galad heard his words.

Gil-galad finally turned but could not bring himself to open his mouth and speak. He was not sure that he could control the venom that was building in his heart. He just nodded and turned away from Elrond once more. Gil-galad could not conquer Ages of time, and return them to how they once were. He now understood. Elrond did not wish to bridge the time that had passed. It was over. Only, Elrond would not speak the words.

Gil-galad knew not how long he stood at the window of his room. He vaguely registered the ringing of a bell as the signal for the evening meal, but it did not inspire him to move, let alone join the others in the dining hall. Gil-galad tensed as a knock sounded on his door. There was no one he wanted to speak with or see, so he ignored the knock. And the second and third when they came, only to whirl around with a scowl on his face as the door opened and the intruder entered. His frown faded, however, as he met the concerned gaze of Haldir.

"Ready to dine?" Haldir asked as he closed the door behind him and moved further into the room.

Gil-galad dropped his eyes, avoiding the younger Elf's gaze. "No, you go ahead. I am not hungry."

"Hiding again, are you?" Haldir's voice was brisk, almost cold, as he moved closer to Gil-galad.

Gil-galad's head snapped up and he glared at the Galadhel, anger and outrage stiffening his spine. "Watch your mouth, Marchwarden. You forget to whom you are speaking!"

Haldir met the former High King's furious gaze challengingly and moved closer still to the furious Elf. "Who am I speaking to," he spat. "Tell me, Gil-galad, who is hiding in this room, afraid to face his former lover?" Haldir laughed mockingly at Gil-galad's snarl of outrage. "Yes, that is right. I said *former* lover and here you are, once High King of all Elves, hiding in your room feeling sorry for yourself."

Gil-galad's body shook as he fought the urge to strike the younger Elf. He looked upon Haldir's coldly mocking face, but underneath the sarcasm he saw the concern, and yes, love. With a cry, Gil-galad turned away. "What am I doing back on this accursed Arda?" he whispered, his shoulders shaking as the battle against tears was lost.

Gil-galad felt Haldir's strong arms wrap about him from behind, and finally Gil-galad released the storm that had been building in him since he awoke in the fields about Lothlórien.

Haldir stood silently, just holding him and letting him cry. Gil-galad's sobs grew quiet and his body gradually relaxed in Haldir's hold. Only then did Haldir release Gil-galad and move towards the washroom. Haldir returned with a damp cloth and gently bathed away traces of tears on Gil-galad's face. He tenderly brushed away a few strands of Gil-galad's black locks from his flushed face, tucking the wayward strands behind one pointed ear.

Gil-galad looked at Haldir's lovely face. Those warm hazel eyes were filled with love and concern. He did not stop to think; Gil-galad bent down and captured Haldir's lips. He poured all his loneliness and uncertainty into that kiss. Gil-galad wrapped his arms tighter around Haldir and heard the younger Elf moan in his arms. For a moment the Marchwarden returned his hungry kiss, but then with a cry he broke Gil-galad's hold and stepped away from him.

"No," Haldir said, shaking his head as he brought a hand up to his lips. He stumbled back away from Gil-galad, and Gil-galad made no move to stop him.

They stared at each other until Gil-galad broke the silence. "I am sorry, Haldir. I do not know why I did that, but I apologize, please forgive me, mellonen" Gil-galad dropped his head, deeply ashamed for using his friend like that.

Gil-galad glanced quickly back at Haldir's softly spoken words. "There is nothing I would love more than to lie down with you, Gil-galad upon that bed and lose myself in your arms. But it is not my arms that you would be imagining, and I cannot do that to myself. For I already am too lost to you, and your hold on my heart is something I must overcome on my own. If I lay with you, I fear I would never be able to accomplish that." Haldir's voice was low and trembled with emotion. Gil-galad's heart sunk even further at the suffering he had inflicted on one who had become so very dear to him.

Gil-galad did not know what to say to his friend, so he spoke from his heart. "You make me wish, Haldir that my heart were my own," Gil-galad's tone was sad, and he saw Haldir smile understandingly back at him. Somehow the tension between them washed away at those words.

"Come," Haldir said. "My brothers and I leave for home on the morrow, and I know they would like to spend an evening with you before we depart." Haldir beckoned, and Gil-galad no longer had the will to resist.

They arrived in the dining hall quite late and were immediately drew the attention of most of the Elves present. Gil-galad ignored the high table in favor of the one occupied by Orophin and Rúmil. He could feel Elrond's eyes upon his back, but he pushed thoughts of the half-Elf away and lost himself in the welcome of his Galadhrim friends. Gil-galad was so very tempted to leave behind the uncertainty and pain of Imladris and return with his friends to the Golden Wood, but he knew he could not outrun his heart. For good or ill, he had to resolve matters with Elrond.

For the remainder of the evening, the Lothlórien table was the source of the happiest and loudest laughter. Many eyes came to fall upon the occupants of that joyous corner of the dining hall. The beauty of the silver-crowned Galadhrim was offset by the darker tresses of Gil-galad. His rich night-hued mane and midnight blue eyes drew many an interested glance from Imladris' residents, none of which went unnoticed by their Lord.

Gil-galad was unaware of the lustful eyes that fell upon him as he threw back his head and laughed uproariously at Haldir's comments. He did not mark how gray eyes looked at him again and again, or how those pewter-hued orbs narrowed when he rose and followed Haldir and his brothers from the hall. Gil-galad laughed at the bickering between Orophin and Rúmil and Haldir's barely patient glares upon the pair. He would miss the brothers so much! He did not delude himself that the same welcome awaited him among the Imladris population, and he dreaded the isolation that would befall him once the Lothlórien contingent departed.

Gil-galad and Haldir bid Rúmil and Orophin good night and moved further down the corridor towards Gil-galad's quarters. They entered the former King's rooms to enjoy one more drink before parting for the night. Neither noticed the eyes that followed them into Gil-galad's rooms or the sigh of despair that left Elrond's lips as he departed for his own empty quarters.


Chapter Nine

T.A. 2951

Gil-galad sadly watched as Haldir and the Lothlórien contingent passed out of sight. He would miss his friend and the company of the other Galadhrim.  Gil-galad turned and made his way back to where Elrond and Erestor stood waiting. He glanced at Elrond's blank face before the half-Elf turned and walked away. Elrond had been acting oddly all morning. He had been surprisingly cold towards Haldir and only greeted Gil-galad with a nod upon their arrival at the breakfast table. Gil-galad ran a hand through his long straight black hair, having not the time yet this morning to braid it. Frustrated, he did not understand what he had done now. He had stayed away like Elrond wanted, not pressuring the Peredhel. He did not know what else he could do, except maybe remove his very presence from the half-Elf's life.

Gil-galad looked away from Elrond's retreating back into Erestor's cool black gaze. Feeling especially ornery, Gil-galad only raised a brow inquiringly, and when the dark-haired Elf said nothing, strode past him towards the training grounds. Glorfindel had promised him a morning of sparring, and that sounded just what Gil-galad needed. He found Glorfindel speaking to a small group of un-tried young recruits. Moving past the group and ignoring the curious eyes that followed, Gil-galad stripped off his heavy outer tunic, leaving him clad only in a light undershirt. He also by-passed the long poles used for spear training and instead chose a heavy broadsword. Warming up occupied him and let him focus on the pull and strain of muscles instead of frustrating thoughts of Elrond.

Gil-galad was unaware of the halt to the conversation as Glorfindel looked over to see what had his students so enthralled. The powerful sword swished through the air, catching glints of light and sending them dancing upon the ground, but that was not what had the young Elves' mouths hanging agape. It was the sight of the sword-wielder himself who captured their attention. Gil-galad's tall, broad-shouldered form seemed to glide and sway with each movement of the sword in his hand. His upper body taut, muscles outlined with the strain of his workout, and yards of his rich black hair floated down his back to dance at the top of his hips. Gil-galad's noble face was fierce in its concentration, lips pursed highlighting the high cheekbones, and the sheen of moisture adding a gleam of pearl to the smooth skin of his torso. He presented a living, vivid picture of an image only seen up till then in books. The fierce and mighty High King of the Noldor.

Gil-galad only slowed the swings of his sword as Glorfindel came into view. He eyed the Elda, wondering what brought on the amused smirk that Glorfindel wore. "What,' he asked irritably.

"Nothing,' Glorfindel said. "Only admiring that you remember how to swing that sword is all. Ready to be dealt your first defeat since rebirth?' Glorfindel smirked at the former King as he removed his outerwear and began warming up as well.

"Some things one does not forget; it is like really good sex, you remember when needed,' Gil-galad replied to the blond, who laughed at his words.

The pair began slowly circling. Gil-galad took the first strike of Glorfindel's sword, feeling the impact all through his shoulder. He swung his blade under Glorfindel's, each now dancing out of the path of the other's sword. Blows rang through the valley, the sounds of blades crossing attracting the curious more quickly than word of mouth. The prospect of seeing two great warriors even in a friendly sparring match drew attention, added to that the warrior's beauteous forms, and Elves filled the training grounds to watch.

For the most part, Gil-galad and Glorfindel ignored their audience. Trading insults and banter, they put on quite a show for the watching masses. Gil-galad's attention was caught by a flash of black out of the corner of his eyes. He stole a glance and saw the black-robed Erestor standing well back, almost hidden by some trees at the edge of the field. Those coal-hued eyes were trained on the sparring pair. Since he knew that the aloof Advisor had no interest in him, it must be Glorfindel who held the Councilor's attention so completely. This distraction, no matter how brief, proved all that the advantage the great Balrog slayer needed, and Gil-galad groaned as his sword went sailing through the air.

"Ha,' Glorfindel crowed happily. "Was that a sign of age, oh King of old?' Glorfindel picked up the sword and handed both blades to a young Elf. He approached Gil-galad, who nodded his head in the direction of the trees.

"I was distracted and somehow I feel you are to blame, Glorfindel.' Gil-galad chuckled at the blonde's blank look.

Glorfindel looked over Gil-galad's shoulder, a perplexed frown on his fair features. "Erestor,' he called as the black-draped figure walked towards them. "What brings you to the practice yard this fine day, mellonen?'

Erestor bowed briefly before addressing Gil-galad. "My Lord Gil-galad, I thought if you wished, we could discuss some of the latest happenings like you requested?' Erestor's obvious ignoring of Glorfindel brought a frown to the Elda's face, but he said nothing, only watched Erestor with a look of desire not fully hidden.

Gil-galad spared a glance at the blond before addressing the Advisor. "That would be wonderful, Erestor. Just let me clean up a bit. Shall I meet you in the library?'

Once more a stiff bow was performed flawlessly and Erestor departed without a word to the one he had just moments before been unable to take his eyes off.

"You desire him?' Gil-galad asked Glorfindel, though he did not really need an affirmation, seeing the look of longing upon the Elda's face.

"Ai,' Glorfindel said, his voice hoarse. "But piercing that cold exterior would amount to tackling the frost of the Helcaraxë. He has rebuffed all my overtures.' Glorfindel looked after the retreating Councilor once more before sending Gil-galad a mischievous smile. "However, I am persistent.'

Gil-galad had to laugh as the Balrog slayer walked off, cockiness in his every step. Gil-galad sighed, wishing he could hold such hope for his own desires. Gil-galad ignored the throng of Elves still littered about the practice yard and made his way back to his quarters. Once in his room, his gaze was drawn to the large canopied bed. Spread out in an array of colors were several formal robes and various tunics and leggings, all in colors the former King had favored. He picked up the notes and read.

It would appear that the Valar gave no thought to baggage. These should meet your needs.

Erestor.

Gil-galad chuckled. Leave it to Elrond's ultimate efficient Councilor to notice that detail. Making his way to his bath, he grabbed a tunic and leggings in a deep royal blue. Once clean, Gil-galad made his way to the vast Imladris libraries. There he found Erestor bent over his desk, furiously scribbling away with brief glances at a text open in front of him. Gil-galad knocked upon the corner of the open door.

"Come, my Lord,' Erestor called, not looking up from his work.

Gil-galad entered and shut the door behind him. He did not know what the Advisor had to tell him, but just in case, he wanted privacy to hear it.

"Lord Erestor, if you need to schedule this for later?' Gil-galad asked as he took a seat, not in front of the Councilor's desk but over by the windows where the bright rays of Anor could be felt.

Erestor rose and came to join Gil-galad. He stopped at a cabinet and poured two goblets of rich Imladris red wine. Handing one to Gil-galad, he took a seat across from the other Elf. "No, now is fine, my Lord.'

For several moments the pair was silent, each lost in his own thoughts, and enjoying their glasses of wine. Finally Erestor set his wine aside and folded his hands in his lap. He looked piercingly at Gil-galad, and Gil-galad could not help but feel apprehensive at what the wise Councilor had to tell him.

"You have been sent back during very precarious times, Gil-galad,' Erestor addressed Gil-galad frankly, his tone much more informal, as he knew that his words were going to be met with horror.

"Tell me,' Gil-galad simply ordered mentally trying to prepare himself.

"The Dark Lord has returned. The Nazgûl have been sent to reclaim Dol Guldur in Southern Mirkwood.'  Erestor barely caught Gil-galad's wine glass before it hit the floor.

Continued...

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