At Long Last, Love by Alex Cat
Summary: Gandalf finally has time for love.
Categories: FPS > Gandalf/CĂ­rdan, FPS > CĂ­rdan/Gandalf Characters: None
Type: Romance/Drama
Warning: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 1 Completed: Yes Word count: 529 Read: 748 Published: July 01, 2015 Updated: July 01, 2015
Story Notes:
This story was written for the International Day of Slash and uses the tarot card: The Hermit The theme is an old love rekidnled.

1. Chapter 1 by Alex Cat

Chapter 1 by Alex Cat
No one in Middle Earth knew that the Wizard was in love. He never said a word to anyone at all, not even the one he loved. He had come to this land to help the children of Eru and he focused on that mission to the exclusion of his own happiness sometimes.

Except for pipe weed. He loved it almost as much as he did his beloved.

He sat at the table with the Ringbearers, the elven ones anyway, Elrond, Galadriel and Círdan. They all drank a toast to the new world and to leaving it behind. Elrond had brought a bottle of wine from Imladris, a fine vintage to drink here at the end of their lives in Arda.

After they drank and had a fine meal, Círdan rose from his seat at the table. “I must see to the ship, my friends; the others will be coming soon.”

Celeborn arrived to escort his wife to the ship. He would not go to the West, but stay here and tend the world they left behind for a while.

Elrond left the room to speak with his sons. They had come here with him to say their goodbyes as well. They had been given the choice to be elves or men and they had decided to choose as their sister had and live out their lives with the man who had become their life mate, *Araval.

Gandalf rose and followed the shipwright out to the docks.

“I thank you for giving me the ring. It has aided in my mission,” he said to Círdan.

“You, my friend, are the wisest of all in this land. Who else would I give it to?”

Gandalf said nothing but watched as Círdan checked the supplies and all the riggings for the sails.

“Is there something else?” Círdan turned and asked.

“I…” He found himself without words, he who always knew what to say.

Círdan smiled at him. “Did you think I did not know?”

“Know?”

“Of your feeling for me. I have known since the day I gave you the ring. I figured you would get around to doing something about it when the time was right.”

Círdan dropped the rope that he held in his hand and crossed the deck of the last tall ship that he would build here in Arda. He pulled the Maia into his arms and kissed him, a kiss that had been many years coming.

“We will be the only two old whitebeards in Aman,” Gandalf laughed breathlessly.

“I care not of those things, not after all these years. I would wake in your arms and walk the white beach with you every day until time is no more.”

“The hobbits will not arrive for a few hours. I’d like to see my cabin.”

Círdan took his arm and led him below decks. “I might show you more than that,” he said as they went out of sight.

~end~


*The story of Araval and the sons of Elrond can be found in my story: “In Cloaks of Silver-Grey” at OEAM and soon to be at Ao3.
This story archived at http://www.libraryofmoria.com/a/viewstory.php?sid=3936