Come Hither by amber
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Story Notes:

Request: Rating = NC-17; Pairing = Any of: Gil-galad/someone, Glorfindel/Ecthelion, Finrod/Edrahil, Fingon/Maedhros, Fingon/Finrod; Story elements = Silmarillion-based, pre-Silmarillion-based or 4th Age, reunion, etc.; does_not_want = Ideally, I don't want slash involving Elves who are married in canon.

             Gil-Galad signed in frustration as he finished reading the missive and threw it aside. He wished he could just push it under his ever growing pile of paperwork and forget it but he knew he couldn’t. They were already on their way and would be here soon. He had a fleeting thought of letting Cirdan deal with the situation but knew he would forcefully decline as they were mostly Noldor. Why did what remained of the Feanorean troops have to decide to come to him? Why could they not sail, en mass, and leave he and his people alone?


            The King called in his Troop Commander and advised him of the coming party. Together they decided to set up a separate camp on the eastern edge of the major encampment away from everyone else. He knew there would be trouble if he tried to bring them into the city itself. Then he called a page and had a message sent to Celebrimbor. As the last of the Feanoreans maybe he could take charge of the group and deal with them. Him he trusted as he had taken no oath and left the presence of his father and uncles shortly after they had landed in Middle earth. Thinking he had prepared as much as he could, he turned and left his tent to relax by the fire with some others.


 


            “They have built us an encampment to the east of everyone else,” Lindir said as he returned to the main force. He had been sent ahead to scout out what information he could. “The word is out that we are coming and the populace is unsettled.  At least it seems to have a good water supply.”


            “That was poor planning on someone’s part,” remarked Erestor, who acted as one of the leaders of the remaining Feanorean people. “We had best warn everyone to be careful and have the younglings placed in the middle of the column.”


            “Word would have gone out no matter what we did, we are hardly normal refugees,” came the comment from a young, dark haired soldier. “But we have no where else to go and therefore no choice.”


            That effectively ended any arguments as Elrond had been in the presence of the Valar and been told what needed to be done with this group. Besides, Maedhros and Maglor had named him their heir and left him in charge when they left their people. 


            Elros, who had been riding with the rearguard, came forward to see what the plan was as they neared the coast. When everything was explained to him he nodded his agreement with his brother’s decision. Then turning to Lindir, he laughed.


            “So, are you going to continue working on the “come hither” song tonight?” he wanted to know.


            Lindir just groaned when everyone laughed at him. It was a well known fact that the minstrel had been working on a song to help him attract a new lover. He was quite an accomplished minstrel and had made a bet with Maglor long ago that he could write a song that would in and of its self attract him a partner. He had managed to write many songs while on the rode but none had been good enough to attract him a partner yet.


            “Don’t worry Lindir, one day you will write your song and a beautiful ellon will come running,” Elrond said with a smile. He and Lindir had been music pupils together under Maglor and an endearing, lasting friendship had formed between them. He was one of the few who did not give Lindir a hard time because he was attracted to males.


            Lindir just smiled in gratitude before riding forward again to meet the so called welcoming party that was sure to come and direct them to the encampment.


 


            Later that afternoon, when Gil-Galad and his delegation approached the encampment, they were surprised to find two standards flying above the encampment instead of just the Feanorean’s.


            “I have seen that standard before during the war but don’t remember whose it is,” Celeborn said as they all slowed and stopped. “Does anyone recognize it?”


            “I do,” Cirdan said as tears came to his eyes while watching the deep blue flag with the six pointed silver star. “It is that of Eärendil’s house. He was flying it on the main mast of Vingilot when he last left these shores.”


            “Is it possible that it means the twins still live,” Gil-Galad asked quietly. “There have always been rumors but we were never able to confirm them.”


            “Galadriel has always told you that Maglor took the boys in and raised them,” Celeborn responded. “When they were still at Himring we would occasionally receive updates on them along with other news.”


            “Well then, something good has come of this meeting already. Shall we precede and get this over with,” the King said as he nudged his horse forward.


            The King and others nodded to the guards he had placed outside of the encampment before entering. He was surprised to find the people, both men and elves, had already set up a flourishing camp and appeared settled in.


            “They have settled quickly,” commented the King’s young standard bearer. “It is almost as if they had been here for weeks.”


            “They have had much practice,” said Celebrimbor. “They have lived as a mobile camp now for years.”


            The group continued to ride towards the middle of the compound where they could now see larger tents and heard music playing. Coming into what could be considered a courtyard before the largest tents, they dismounted as they watched two elves duel on harps. It was such a surprising scene that they stood unannounced and watched the duel until the white haired elf missed a chord and conceded defeat to the dark haired youngster before him.


            “You both do your teacher proud to play with such skill at such a speed,” Celeborn said in way of an attention getting greeting.


            An older dark haired ellon with the light of the trees in his eyes stepped forward and commenced to give a short bow. Then he turned to Celebrimbor.


            “It is good to see you again youngling; I am glad you appear to have done well for yourself.”


            “Lord Erestor,” Celebrimbor began, “where are my uncles?”


            “Lord Maedhros threw himself into a chasm of fire and is no more,” came the stiff answer. “Lord Maglor is destine to spend eternity wandering the shores of Middle-earth. He will come before elves no more.”


            “Then who leads the people here and why have you come? Are you in charge?” Celebrimbor wanted to know. He really would rather not be saddled with the headache of the Kinslayers and he knew he could trust Erestor to handle things.


            “No youngling, I am not in charge,” came the curious reply. “The one you seek is your uncles’ heir. You would do well to remember your manners and introduce your companions.”


            “You would dare to speak to a Feanorean in that tone when you owe him your allegiance?” Gil-Galad challenged without being introduced.


            “I owe him no allegiance,” Erestor snapped back as he took a serious look at who has challenged him. “My allegiance lies where it always has, with Turgon’s house.”


            “Enough all of you,” Elrond shouted as his brother came up behind him. “Lindir, take my harp and bring drinks for our guest. Gentlemen, if you will follow me.”


            Elrond led them all into a large tent set to the side used for administration purposes, then directed them to sit and wait until Lindir had served everyone drinks and left. They talked for many hours before anything was agreed upon and the king’s delegates left.


 


Signing in relief that he was once again free to relax Elrond left the camp and walked through the trees following a small stream. Hearing the music of a single harp he followed it to a group of rock around a bend. He smiled and sat down to listen when he saw Lindir. After an hour the white haired ellon finally took a break.


“That bad huh?” he questioned Elrond as he put his harp aside for a while.


“No more than I expected and less in some ways,” came the careful answer. “It should only take a few more meetings to settle everything.”


“It will be nice to be able to play and compose full time again,” Lindir commented whiskfully. “Who was the tall dark haired ellon with the attitude?”


“The King,” Elrond replied laughingly. “Does he interest you?”


Lindir just shrugged his shoulders as he sat quietly and contemplated. Finally, as the sun drifted below the trees, Elrond rose and turned to head back to the camp.


“Don’t stay out here too late, it is still dangerous,” he called over his shoulder as he retraced his steps.


Lindir watched him go and continued to enjoy the music of nature for a few more minutes before he felt compelled to lift his harp and play again. He began to pluck away gently as a vision of the king floated through his mind. Without thinking he began to describe how he viewed the ellon through his music.


 


Gil-Galad was restless as he walked about the camp. He had calmed down since the meeting this afternoon and used his evening stroll through the camp to think about what was said and would need to be done. That Celebrimbor had all but dance with glee at finding himself not responsible for the Kinslayers had not helped matters. He had badly underestimated Feanor’s grandson and would have to remember that in the future.


That his younger, distant cousins had outsmarted him stung as well. They gave no quarter in the discussions and had clearly thought everything though before coming here. When he tried to dismiss them as not knowing enough to contribute to the decisions he had found himself under attack. It seems that even though they had been hostages, they were fairly well educated. The accusation that he had not tried hard enough to retrieve them was truer than he would ever admit to either of them. Finally realizing that he could not settle here among others, the king headed out of the camp to find what peace and quiet he could.


He followed the stream through the woods eastwards until all sound of camp life had faded. Walking a little further he realized that he was inadvertently following the sound of a harp. Stopping in surprise to listen closer he felt a pull unlike anything he had ever felt before. He resisted the pull instinctively only to find that the harder he tried, the less he was able to resist. Fearful of the magic that was pulling him forward he resigned himself to whatever awaited him as he continued walking. Rounding a bend of the stream the king finally stopped before the white haired ellon he had seen playing harps against Elrond earlier that day.


“What magic is this?” he finally asked after the ellon had stopped playing.


Lindir started as he had not realized that anyone else was there. Looking up he saw the one he had been describing in his music standing before him. His eyes grew wide as he continued to stare at the king.


“Answer me,” Gil-Galad ordered as he slowly pursued the form and face of the ellon before him. “How did you create a song that I could not escape from? The harder I tried to pull back, the more the need to follow the music pulled until I found I had no choice.”


Lindir considered everything the king had told him and then smiled as he realized that he had finally done it. He had called an ellon to his side with music. Seeing that the king was becoming confused and angry, Lindir finally introduced himself and invited the king to sit beside him as he explained what had happened.


“So, you lured me with a song did you?” Gil-galad finally commented. “I must have made quite an impression on you this afternoon.”


Lindir looked down shyly as he admitted to the king that he had indeed made quiet an impression.


“So, do we prove Maglor’s teachings true?” came the quiet question. “You left quiet an impression on me also this afternoon.”


“Are you not spoken for already?” Lindir wanted to know.


“I have always been attracted to ellons although it has been drummed into my head that I must marry and produce heirs,” the king admitted quietly. Then he felt the need to be totally truthful. “I can delay a marriage for years yet but one day I will have to concede to my counselor’s demands.”


“And I have pledged myself to Elrond,” Lindir commented as he finally gave into the urge to card his fingers through the king’s hair.


“Then would you pledge your self to me for as long as we have?” a flustered Gil-galad asked as he said a quick prayer to the Valar for acceptance.


“I will pledge myself to you for as long as we have,” came the quiet reply. “I also understand the need for being discrete, so have no worries there either.”


“Then let us seal this with a kiss,” the king said as he leaned toward the other ellon.


Lindir hesitated a moment before he met the king half way for a kiss to seal their bargain. He knew the instant that their lips touched that they had lost all control and were still under the song’s spell. Neither knew, or cared, how their clothes came off as they were too busy kissing and touching each other. After letting himself be lowered to the ground, Lindir gently guided the king as he explored when it became apparent that he had not done this before. Giving gentle instructions between kisses he managed to keep just enough control of himself to ensure he was stretched enough to take the king’s large member inside of him. After that he remembered little.


Coming to his senses some time later, he smiled at the king as he snuggled closer. He rested for a few more minutes before he gently shook his new lover awake.


“Come, we must clean up and return to camp before others come looking for us,” the minstrel explained as he slowly disengaged himself and headed to the stream. They said little as they cleaned up and dressed. Finally, Lindir gathered up his harp and they headed back to the camp.


“So,” the king began, “this song you played to attract me, is it common?”


Lindir smiled as he answered.


“No, Maglor taught Elrond and me that only the best can sing a “come hither” song. I have been trying for years to compose one in the hopes of finding a lover but until tonight I had no luck.”


“What changed?” his companion wanted to know.


“I quit trying to force it and instead just let my heart speak of an ellon that had attracted me although I knew nothing about him,” came the surprising answer.


“You say Maglor told you this is something that only the best can do?” the king wanted to know. At Lindir’s nodded he signed in relief and smiled. “Good, then I won’t have to ban the composing of these songs.”


The minstrel just laughed and released the king’s hand as they left the forest and came into view of the camp. He waived goodbye at the entrance knowing that he would be hearing from his new lover soon. He all but walked into Elrond as he was turned to watch the king walk away while he himself entered camp.


“So, it works? You actually managed to write a “come hither” song? And you caught him of all people?” Elrond began as loads of questions flooded his mind.


Turning to his lord, Lindir smiled and gave the only piece of information he felt he had to divulge.


“It comes naturally when you least expect it,” then he turned and walked away to find some sleep.