Gohen: Redemption
Beta: Ilye, Fimbrethiel
chapter twenty
Brest, France, 2011
"Gandalf! Be reasonable!" Erestor cried.
The Maia looked up at the irate vampire from his position on the loveseat beside Maglor. "My dear boy, I am never anything else."
Maglor shook his head. This was a never-ending argument. It had begun in Prague, and was carried on through their travels to Brest. Erestor and Maglor fought to bring David with them to Aman, and Gandalf continued to say it was an impossibility.
The Fëanorion knew better, though. It was possible.
"He is of Men," Gandalf continued.
Erestor shook his head. "He is a descendent of Elessar, Gandalf. He is a Númenorean! He is no mere Man!" Erestor's voice was rising, his anger beginning to surface. It was one thing for the younger Noldo to be irritated, it was another when he became angry.
Gandalf held out his hand. "That, my boy, is precisely my point! The Valar have banned the travel of the Númenoreans to Aman. They had very good cause at the time, and they see no reason to amend that decision!" Gandalf managed to be intimidating in a pair of jeans and one of Maglor's old t-shirts that said 'It's only kinky the first time'. David had found it immensely amusing when the Wizard appeared wearing the shirt.
Gandalf still didn't know what 'kinky' meant. Which was probably just as well, Maglor mused as the argument raged on.
"And how many Númenoreans have sought entrance to Aman recently?" Erestor demanded as he glared down at Gandalf.
"Time is running out, Erestor. The ship will depart without us. The time for debate is over." Gandalf's eyes narrowed, and his voice darkened. "He will sail with us in two days' time, but understand this: If the Valar do not want him in the Blessed Realm, there is no sending him back."
Erestor crossed his arms, turning his gaze to David's wide eyes. "Do you agree to risk it, melethron?" he asked. "Will you sail with us in the hopes that the Valar will permit you entrance and not send your soul on to where the souls of Men reside?"
Maglor felt David's body tense between his legs. The Man had been seated on the floor, nestled safely between Maglor's thighs with his head resting on the elder vampire's knee. Maglor ran his fingers through David's thick hair, which the mortal had permitted to grow long over the passing years. There was a soft wave to the honey locks, and Maglor never tired of touching them. "David," he said softly, and the Man looked up at him. "You can tell us no. You can stay here when we leave."
"My choices," David said slowly, "are stay here without you, or sail with the chance of having you." His hazel eyes were so warm as he gazed up at the grey-eyed vampire; love shown in their depths. "If I remain here, I will be alone and will eventually die. But, I will live and die without either of you at my side. My mother and sisters are lost without my father, and they have cut me from their lives. I am nothing but a fag to them. I have given up all I had in order to be at your sides. I would give up my life if it gave me just a fraction of an hour longer."
Erestor was kneeling beside David on the floor in a blur of motion David didn't even see. One moment Erestor was across the room, the next those dark eyes were in front of his. Erestor's arms slipped around him, drawing him into an embrace between Maglor's legs. There was a sense of relief among the three lovers as Gandalf stood with a sigh, shaking his head as he left the room.
Erestor and Maglor were not surprised to see the grey ship. "Has Círdan been floating here for the past month, Gandalf?" Erestor asked, setting down David's suitcase. The Man had insisted on bringing two suitcases, but would not carry them himself.
Gandalf shrugged. "He has been here this whole time, but he has not been unoccupied."
Maglor tilted his head. "What do you mean?"
"Just board the ship. The three of you have delayed us long enough." Gandalf stepped aboard, disappearing below the deck where the vampires were sure Círdan would be.
"He seems slightly unhappy," David muttered as he followed his lovers onto the modest sized ship.
Erestor chuckled. "Gandalf hates losing."
"I was not aware he had lost something," David said as they stepped below deck, too.
Maglor looked over his shoulder, winking at the Man. "You are here, beloved. He has lost."
David's cheeks colored. "Oh," was all he said as they entered the main living area of the ship.
What had occupied Círdan's time was obvious the moment the trio gazed around the room. Every surface available had a differed 3-D puzzle of a ship on it, all in various sizes and styles. The shipwright was bent over the small table near the back of the room, placing what looked like the last piece to another 3-D ship. David craned his neck around the group, reading the name of the ship Círdan had just completed.
"RMS Titanic," he quoted.
Círdan lifted his head, a smile crossing his bearded face as he looked upon the wayward Elves. Erestor leaned closer to the puzzle ship, and suddenly the puzzle split in half -- the bow separating from the stern. Erestor and Círdan's eyes met, and Erestor blushed under the scrutinizing gaze.
"See?" Maglor laughed. "It was your fault!"
David never saw the strike Erestor delivered that sent Maglor to the floor, the elder vampire gripping his abdomen.
They could not have been at sea more than three days. No more than that, David thought, as he mounted the stairs up to the deck where Erestor called for him from. They could not have possibly arrived in this fabled land already!
Erestor stood on the bow of the ship, his hand in Maglor's, staring out over the calm ocean. David joined them, and the two vampires shifted so that the Man stood between them, their hands laced together behind his back. The view was obscured by dense fog, and David did not know what his lovers kept looking for.
The fog parted as he gazed with Erestor and Maglor, and David's breath caught in his throat. Glittering white, tall towers and large mountains sprawled along the horizon. David's heart began to race the close they came to those white shores. "Oh, my," he breathed.
"Home," Erestor said, his voice thick with emotion. David turned his eyes to the younger vampire. Tears fell steadily from Erestor's eyes, the proud chin trembling with the effort he put forth to restrain the sob David knew was building in his chest.
"Aye," Maglor whispered. "We're home, melethen mi dúath." David saw the tears mirrored on Maglor's face, that same tension as the elder of the two tried to remain somewhat composed.
They were joined by Círdan and Gandalf the closer they came to the port. The ship floated under a great arch, toward docks where white ships were lashed.
"It is the Swanhaven," Maglor said to David. "It is here that my hands were first sullied with the blood of my kin." The regret and sadness David heard in the words brought tears to his own eyes.
Gandalf's hand came to rest on Maglor's shoulder. "Those are wounds of the past, son of Fëanor. Those transgressions were long ago forgiven."
Bitterness seeped into Maglor's tone. "Were they, old man? I don't think so. No, had they been forgiven, Erestor and I would have returned millennia ago."
The hand dropped away, and David almost felt sorry for the Wizard. But, he knew Maglor was right. He had listened enough over the past month to know that the two vampires were only allowed back because the Valar had grown tired of the pleas. They were not forgiven; the gods were just tired of being annoyed.
Their bodies were jostled as they settled into dock, and Círdan tied off the ship before announcing they could exit the deck. Maglor and Erestor each took one of David's suitcases, while the Man nervously wrung his hands. There was a small crowd gathered near the docks; perhaps a hundred Elves had come to see the last arrivals to these shores.
David knew how odd they must look to these Elves. Where Círdan and Gandalf had changed into robes, the three lovers had remained in their modern clothing. Maglor was the epitome of gothic beauty in a crimson silk dress shirt, the sleeves cinching at his wrist, and his legs clad in tight, smooth black leather. Black boots crept up his calves and his hair was wild and sea-blown.
Erestor was dark and fell looking, his hair just as free as Maglor's. He wore black jeans that hugged every curve of his backside and showed off his groin to the best advantage. He wore a shirt much like Maglor's, but his was black with silver embroidery. He also wore black boots, but his were hidden under the fabric of his jeans.
But, he, the mortal, the odd one out, was the one most eyes fell on. He was a Man. He was different. David had soft honey-brown hair that curled slightly as it grew longer. The tresses now reached to the middle of his back, but he tended to keep it gathered in a ponytail. He wore simple faded blue jeans and a white t-shirt, his hazel eyes downcast as they marched from the wharf.
It took them the better part of the day to march from Alqualondë to the base of Taniquetil, and David's nerves were frayed. Erestor held onto his hand, occasionally whispering encouraging words to his lover along the journey. When they reached the base of the mountain, David's eyes widened as he gazed up the long, long line of stairs leading to the summit.
"You got to be fucking kidding me," he gasped.
Erestor nuzzled David's cheek. "Do not worry so, melethen. The home of Manwë, King of the Valar, resides at the peak. The Valar are convened there; they await us."
"I repeat," David said, "you have got to be fucking kidding me! I cannot climb all those stairs!"
Maglor kissed David softly, ignoring the eyes of the Elves who had followed them. "If you drank from one of us, you would have the stamina to climb. Do you want that?"
David nodded.
"Which one of us, David?" Erestor purred. The three lovers forgot their audience as they engaged in a well-practiced dance. Erestor dropped the suitcase he carried to come stand behind David while Maglor set his suitcase down and pressed his chest to David's. The Man's face and neck were flushed in greedy anticipation.
"I want to taste you, Maglor," David breathed.
Maglor smiled, his pewter eyes darkening like the sky before a storm. "Then you shall."
David cried out sharply as Erestor bit into his throat, his blood rushing into the vampire's eager mouth. Through heavy-lidded eyes, David watched Maglor cut the flesh at the base of his neck. He leaned forward; David's lips latched over the wound and he sucked eagerly. The world fell away as they shared a bond far deeper than that of lovers, tasting each other, hearing their thoughts, knowing their souls.
When they parted, David was gasping with the power surging through him. Maglor lapped at the twin marks on David's throat, and Erestor suckled at the blood remaining on David's lips. They parted, and it was only then that they remembered the Elves around them. The Eldar gazed in disgusted interest, and David could scent their arousal, their fear at what they had just witnessed. The trio laughed as they mounted the stairs. David was drunk on the power of Maglor's blood rushing through him, and the trek to Manwë's throne did not physically tax him as much as it normally would have.
The outdoor meeting area Gandalf led them to housed only two thrones. Seated in one of those thrones was an Elf with eyes as blue as the sky, full of wisdom and mercy. His hair was a sheet of gold, flowing over his dark blue robes, glittering in the late afternoon sunlight. Beside him was a woman whose eyes were as black and bottomless as the night sky, but there was a glimmer in the inky pools that reminded David of the first star of night. Her hair was also black, shimmering like a raven's wing, tumbling in thick curls over her deep violet dress. Gandalf knelt before the two seated figures, but Erestor and Maglor did not. Because his lovers did not bow to these stately figures, David did not either.
His hazel eyes swung around the room and he noticed others standing near those thrones. Each was more beautiful than the last, all frightening in the depths their eyes showed.
These were the Valar. These beings helped bring this world into being. David felt faint.
"I have brought them as you asked, my Lord, my Lady," Gandalf said.
The male nodded once. "Thank you, Olórin, but you have not only brought back our headstrong minstrel and our brave warrior, but a third. A third who should not be here."
There was a tremor in that voice, one of frightful power, and David cowered between Erestor and Maglor.
"They would not come unless they brought the Man. You said to do whatever was necessary to bring them to you, and bringing the Man was necessary," Gandalf said, still on bended knee before these beings.
"Why have you brought a descendant of the great kingdom of Númenor to these shores, son of Feanáro; son of Huoro?" the dark eyed female asked. Though her voice was just as even and soft as the male's, there was an edge to it that made David fear her.
It was Maglor who spoke, and David admired his lover's gall in the face of such old, deep power. "He is our companion. We would not leave him to a lonely fate when he has given all up for his love of us. If we came, he came. Gandalf insisted we return to your lands, and our price was David."
"You are not in a position to be bargaining," a new voice warned. David saw another dark-haired being, in the shape of an Elf, step forward. It was obviously male, and his eyes were blue, but an icy, almost white, blue. He was clothed in black, and David sensed an air of death around him.
Maglor snarled at this new male. "You stay out of this."
"Why have you had us come, Manwë?" Erestor asked the male on the throne quietly, his hand still entwined with David's.
Manwë's lips curved up oh so slightly. "Since your golden warrior set foot on these shores, he has remained at my doorstep. He has begged and pleaded; he has cajoled and raved. No one in Aman was given a moment's respite, especially once he enlisted the aid of another on your behalf."
"You have served your sentence, Kanafinwë. You have learned your lessons," the female finished for her king.
Maglor actually spat. "I have learned nothing but contempt for this land and those who dwell in it! You left us in a world we could not be fully a part of, yet could not leave. You were sadistic and cruel and only now lift your ban because you are tired of Glorfindel's whining!" he cried.
"Kanafinwë!" Erestor hissed, grabbing Maglor's hand and drawing him close. "Do not anger them, melethen. Please, do not have us cast from our home once more."
Something inside Maglor broke with Erestor's words. Erestor's voice trembled and his eyes had filled with tears. Maglor cupped Erestor's cheek tenderly. "I love you, Sangië," he said, using a name for Erestor David had never heard before.
Erestor nodded. "I love you, Kanafinwë. Let it die its death, as we should have so long ago. We are home."
Maglor kissed Erestor once, softly, before facing the Valar again. "It is over?" he asked.
Manwë nodded. "It is over."
Erestor fell to his knees, pulling David with him, and the vampire gasped, clutching at his chest. David looked up and saw that Maglor was on the floor as well. "Erestor?" he asked, panic creeping around his heart.
His two lovers took many moments to compose themselves, and when Erestor met David's eyes, there were huge tears slipping down Erestor's cheeks. "David," he whispered raggedly. "It is over."
Maglor crawled over to his lovers, grasping their hands. Erestor took David's other hand, completing the circle. It was then David understood.
"You are alive!" he breathed. The Elves gazed at him through tears, smiles on their faces and laughed welling in their throats. "You're alive!" David cried gleefully.
Erestor dived forward, capturing David's mouth in a deep, searching kiss. When Erestor had ravaged his mouth, Maglor teased David's swollen lips, dipping his tongue into the Man's mouth. When David was panting, hard, and needy, the two Elves pulled back from him. "Why did you do that?" he asked dazedly.
"That was the first time we have tasted you, David," Maglor said, smoothing the hair back from David's face. "Nothing but you. No blood, no lust, no power. Just the sweetness of you."
"Erestor?"
Erestor's body became deathly still. David looked over Erestor's shoulder to see a tall, beautiful Elf step from the shadows. Hair as golden as the sun shone in the dying light of the day, and eyes blue as a spring sky shimmered with unshed tears. He wore a simple tunic and leggings, well-worn brown boots on his feet, but the Elf was dazzling to David's eyes. He recognized the Elf from the visions Erestor had shared with him through their blood bond.
"Erestor?" the golden Elf called again. "Will you not look upon me, my lost love?" he asked, still walking toward the kneeling trio.
David saw a tremor run through Erestor's body, but the Elf still did not turn to greet his love.
"Have you forgotten me, my love? For I have not forgotten you," the golden Elf continued, the tears now spilling from his eyes. "I never forgot you. I gave my word, and I never gave up."
A strangled cry fell from Erestor's lips and he leapt to his feet, spinning to face the taller Elf now that he was only a few steps away. They just gazed at each other, tears falling unnoticed, until Erestor let out a deep, body-shaking sob and flung himself into the blond's arms.
"Glorfindel!" Erestor wept in the arms he had thought he would never feel again. He could not stop the tears, could not stop the sobs, and could not stop saying his lover's name again and again.
Glorfindel stroked Erestor's raven tresses. They slowly fell to the ground, Erestor all but crawling into Glorfindel's lap, begging the Elf to never leave his side again.
"Never, Erestor," Glorfindel said, pulling away enough to see Erestor's face. "Never." He bent his head then and kissed Erestor's warm, sweet lips for the first time in centuries, but the kiss did not last as Erestor began to sob uncontrollably once more.
David realized he was crying with Erestor, but then he laughed, still grasping Maglor's hand. There was a dark shadow in Maglor's eyes, and that was when the pain of the situation dawned on David. Erestor was Glorfindel's. Their happy threesome was broken. What would he and Maglor do now?
Another Elf with hair a rich auburn then appeared behind Glorfindel and Erestor. "Cáno?" he called.
Maglor shook his head, slowly crawling away from the newcomer. "No," he choked out. "No!" He turned his angry, frightened eyes to Manwë and his queen. "Do not torment me with him! You have already torn my soul from me, have made me no more than an animal, do not shred what little is left of my heart!" he begged.
The redhead reached out, snatching Maglor into an embrace. "You would send me away after all the years I came with Glorfindel to make them bring you back to me, Cáno? Do you hate me so much that you would prefer me dead?"
Maglor kept whispering 'no', his eyes wide and unseeing.
"Please, forgive me, my brother, for bringing that curse upon you and then leaving your side. I was mad with grief and I made a rash decision. A decision I have regretted for millennia. Do not shun me now, please, Cáno, do not shun me."
"Russandol," Maglor said. "It cannot be you."
"Aye, 'tis I, brother." Maedhros sat back on his heels. "'Tis I, lover."
Maglor recoiled, his eyes darting to the seated Valar. He would have remained frozen like that if his brother did not turn his face back to him, leaning in and kissing his slightly parted lips. "We can be together," Maedhros breathed into Maglor's mouth before slipping his tongue inside. Maglor whimpered at the gentle touch, and Maedhros withdrew, cradling his younger brother against his breast. "You are home, Cáno," he whispered.
"Home, Russandol," Maglor whispered, closing his eyes and listening to his brother's strong, steady heartbeat. "Home."
David shifted uncomfortably, alone between the reunited couples. He was now regretting leaving with his lovers. He was just as alone now as he would have been, only now he was in a strange land with no one like himself. David hugged himself, fighting the urge to cry. He had made the choice, now he had to live with it.
"David, son of Graham," Manwë called, drawing attention to the lone Man. "This is not your land."
Erestor squirmed out of Glorfindel's arms, coming to stand beside David. "This is now his land. I ask for him to share Tuor's fate; I ask for him to reside among the Eldar, among those whose lives are bound to the life of Arda."
"Why should we grant your request?" the dark haired, light-eyed being asked, walking close to Erestor and David.
Maglor stood as well. "Because, Námo, Erestor shared our curse. He has suffered punishment for a crime he was not guilty of. His grievances must be redressed. He asks for David's life in Aman."
Manwë lifted a hand, silencing everyone. Those wise sapphire eyes pierced David. "You would be bound as they are to the life of Arda. Ageless in this land. Or we can send you home and you will wake in your bed, believing this all a dream. What do you say, David, son of Graham? Do you desire to live among the Elves in our land of peace?"
David looked from Maglor to Erestor, his mind spinning with questions, with fears, with doubts. But, when it was all said and done, what exactly did he have to wake up to in his bed? Nothing. No one. He lifted his warm hazel eyes, squarely meeting the King of the Valar's. "What the hell," he said, shrugging his shoulders in agreement.
