"NO!"

Glorfindel's dreams turned abruptly ugly, and he kicked and thrashed, disturbed by the scream which had worked its way into his subconscious. His lover sat bolt upright beside him in bed, panting.

Maeglin took a deep breath, mastering the fear and other, viler emotions which welled up as always after the dream. That dream. Glorfindel whimpered, striking out again, this time hitting Maeglin on the thigh.

"Oh, shush, shush, it's all right," he murmured soothingly, bending down to press a kiss to his lover's sweat-damp brow. See what you've done now, he chided himself. He needs his rest!

Glorfindel gasped, and his eyes flew open. "Maeglin?"

"I'm here, love, I'm here." Maeglin wrapped his arms around the blond, humming softly. "It's all right, I'm here."

Glorfindel clung to him desperately. He couldn't remember his dream, only that he had been so afraid-so afraid that he was really awake. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Don't be."

He smiled weakly at the brisk, authoritative command-so like Maeglin. "Did I wake you?"

"No," he replied slowly, staring off into the distance. "I believe it was the other way around."

Glorfindel blinked. "What?"

"Oh, nothing, love. Get some more sleep. Valar know you need it." In an abrupt change of mood, Maeglin climbed out of bed and began pulling on his clothes.

"Where are you going?" Glorfindel asked bemusedly. Even in Gondolin, there was little to be done at two in the morning.

"Practice court," Maeglin answered shortly, and left.

---

Advance, advance, retreat, lunge, recover backwards, double retreat, lunge, recover, advance... Maeglin lost himself in the mindless repetition of fencing practice, moving in a set pattern that his body had learned so well that his limbs could perform it without his command.

What will you do?

He ignored the question. Lunge, recover, parry, riposte...

"Maeglin?"

He didn't bother to look up. "You should be in bed, Glorfindel." Retreat, double retreat, lunge, recover backwards.

"So should you." The blond moved carefully into his line of vision, knowing full well what Maeglin's reflexes could do while he was in a practice-trance. "Are you angry with me?"

"Of course not." "Then why did you leave? I can't sleep without you."

"I had a nightmare," he said, his voice clipped. "I was giving you bad dreams, and you need your sleep." Glorfindel's face softened, taking on the unquestioning, devoted expression that Maeglin both adored and feared. "Would you tell me about it?"

"No."

Maeglin looked up as Glorfindel blinked, obviously hurt. "Well... if you don't want to tell me..."

"It's not like that," he snapped. "I just don't want to discuss it."

The wounded look in his lover's eyes deepened, and Maeglin's resolve crumbled away. "It's... I don't remember it all. We're talking, arguing. Then I say something, and I can't hear it, but you walk away, and you don't come back." Glorfindel moved to stand in front of him, and very deliberately wound his arms around his neck. "I will never leave you, Maeglin. Never."

Maeglin dropped his sword and grabbed Glorfindel's shoulders. "Swear. Swear no matter what I do, no matter what I say, you'll still love me. Swear that you won't leave me." His fingers dug painfully into the joining of Glorfindel's neck and shoulders. Glorfindel stared at him, frightened. "Maeglin, you're hurting me."

"Swear! No matter what I do, you'll stay with me!"

"Don't say things like that!" Glorfindel cried, distressed. "I'll stay with you, I'll stay with you forever, just stop talking like that!"

Maeglin's hands dropped, and he gazed down at them in horror. "I'm sorry, Glorfindel," he whispered, turning as if to run away.

"Maeglin! Don't you dare leave!" Glorfindel's voice crackled with an authority he rarely exercised. His lover halted. "Now," he continued more gently, hugging Maeglin tightly. "I love you. What on earth are you afraid of?" "That you'll leave me."

"But why?"

Maeglin's face distorted into a strange expression, intense and furious and terrifying. "You're the one good thing in my life, Glorfindel. The only good thing. If I lose you, I lose everything worth living for."

Glorfindel cupped his face between his palms. "You won't lose me, Maeglin. Not ever. Why would you be afraid of that?"

"Sometimes I'm afraid I'll send you away," he said softly, as Glorfindel strained to hear. Then, even more softly, so that Glorfindel was not even certain if he had heard, or had simply imagined: "And sometimes I'm afraid that I won't."