Title:
By the Grace of the Valar
Author:
Morgana
Author's Email:
Web page: http://www.paranoid.nl/avalon
Pairing
for this part; Erestor/Glorfindel
Rating:
NC-17
Summary: Erestor and Glorfindel spent seven years of bliss together, but then,
their world collapses.
Disclaimer:
Not mine, Tolkien’s.
Warning: AU of course!
Author’s
Note: Completely AU. Plus, I am taking huge liberties with Erestor, Námo and
his wife, Vairë.
Beta reading,
translations and research by Patricia Pleasant, thanks! I couldn’t have written
this story without your help!
All remaining
mistakes are mine!
By
the Grace of the Valar
Part
2
“Watch
your right side, Erestor! You are wide open! An enemy would use that to his
advantage and take you out!” Ecthelion’s sword brushed Erestor’s flank in
warning.
Erestor
tried to block Ecthelion’s attack, but the sword made contact with his tunic,
leaving behind a tiny cut.
Ecthelion
took a step back, lowered his sword, and gave Erestor a stern look. “If this
had been a real battle, you would be dead now.”
Angry
with himself for being caught off-guard, Erestor flung his sword onto the
grass. He marched away from Ecthelion, trying to get his temper back under
control.
“Erestor,
calm yourself.” Ecthelion sheathed his sword, picked up Erestor’s discarded
weapon, and fell into step beside the frustrated Elf. “You have only been
training for two weeks and you already made incredible progress. Do not be so
hard on yourself. You cannot expect to learn such weapon’s skill in a
fortnight, when it took me decades to hone my techniques. You are pushing
yourself too hard.”
Ecthelion’s
thoughts traveled back in time, recalling joining Erestor and Glorfindel for
dinner after meeting with Turgon for most of the day. He had quickly realized
what had happened between the two Elves, seeing them hold hands at the dinner
table. The devoted look they gave each other told him all he needed to know.
Later, he told Glorfindel that he felt his friend had moved too fast, and
Glorfindel even agreed, but the blond Elf had seemed unable to stay away from
Erestor for long. Only a few minutes later, Glorfindel sought out Erestor again
and their fingers twined once more. Ecthelion realized, at that point, that he
was fighting a losing battle and offered Erestor his friendship. Erestor then
surprised him by asking him to train him. Ecthelion had wondered why Erestor
hadn’t asked Glorfindel instead, and Erestor explained that it would be too
much of a distraction. His lover training him just wouldn’t do. So Ecthelion
accepted, seeing that Erestor was offering him a chance to build a
relationship.
The
only drawback was that Erestor easily grew frustrated when he disappointed his
instructor. “Erestor,” said Ecthelion, trying to further calm Erestor down.
“You fought well, but once you attacked, you forgot your defenses.”
Erestor
abruptly stopped walking and sat down on the grass. He rested his back against
a tree trunk and glared at the earth. Rationally, he knew he was too hard on
himself, but he wanted to make Glorfindel proud! His golden-haired lover was a
formidable warrior and he wanted to show Glorfindel that he could wield a sword
as well as his mate did!
Ecthelion
settled down beside Erestor and placed the sword in front of Erestor on the
grass. “You need to be realistic about your training, Erestor.”
“I
want to make him proud!”
“You
already did,” whispered Ecthelion, resting a hand on Erestor’s sword arm. “And
even more importantly, you are making him happy!” Erestor’s lips became a
narrow line, causing Ecthelion to smile. “Why is it so important that you can
wield a sword?”
“I
overheard your conversation the other night. Glorfindel and you are worried
because Turgon continues to ignore the warning Tuor brought him.”
Ecthelion
released a deep sigh. “Turgon should heed Tuor’s warning, but he feels his
warriors can defend the
“Even
against Morgoth? His Balrogs? The fire drakes? Turgon is mad.” Erestor shook
his head. “Morgoth’s strength is growing and once he attacks he will make
certain there are no survivors.”
Ecthelion
rubbed Erestor’s skin through the fabric of the sleeve. “Tuor also said we had
time. Morgoth won’t attack tomorrow. You still have time to learn to wield a
sword.”
“Turgon
is a fool and lets his pride cloud his vision!”
Ecthelion
nodded once. “I agree, but not many would ever dare speak those words aloud.”
“I
speak my mind.” Erestor shrugged his shoulders once. Even though he had taken
the shape of a Firstborn in order to be with Glorfindel, his soul remained that
of one of the Valar.
“Erestor?”
Ecthelion waited for his newest friend to raise his head and then looked into
the fathomless, dark eyes. “For someone with memory loss you know a lot about
Morgoth.” Beneath his hand, Erestor flinched. “I do not mean to pry, but I know
you are hiding things from me – us.”
Erestor
felt conflicted. “I cannot tell you, Ecthelion.” His father would see that as a
breach of their rules and call him back to the Halls of Waiting. “All I can say
is that I mean you well.”
Ecthelion
had heard that answer before and knew he wouldn’t get more information out of
Erestor, so he changed the subject. “Do you wish to continue practice?”
“I
do.” Erestor’s fingers curled around the hilt of his sword. He raised it, and
the metal caught the rays of the sun, glittering fiercely. Glorfindel had given
it to him after his lover had heard that Ecthelion had agreed to train him. The
sword was a family heirloom and Erestor regretted flinging it away earlier. It
deserved to be treated with respect.
Ecthelion
got to his feet and extended his arm, offering to pull Erestor to his feet. The
other dark-haired Elf accepted and Ecthelion studied Erestor, whose eyes were
still directed at the earth. /He is a proud soul, but not flawed in the way
Turgon is. Erestor pushes himself hard – maybe too hard – and then grows
disappointed./ But the truth was that Erestor was the best student he had ever
had. Erestor moved light and quick on his feet and was eager to earn his
teacher’s praise. But, Erestor lacked experience and that would only come with
the passing of time.
“Again,
then!” Ecthelion waited for Erestor to assume the basic position and then
charged again. This time, Erestor was on his guard and blocked him. “Well done.
Again!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Ah,
there you are, melethen1!
I missed you during the day!” Glorfindel placed the quill onto the desk and
gestured for Erestor to approach. “I tried postponing doing my correspondence,
but it caught up with me in the end.” Doing the paperwork that came with his
station was tedious. It had also prevented him from watching Erestor and
Ecthelion train. “How did the session go?”
Erestor
sat down on the desk, crushing several letters beneath him. He pretended not to
see Glorfindel’s look of dismay when his lover realized he would have to write
those anew. “I pay too little attention to my defenses,” he said, running his
fingertips through Glorfindel’s hair. “I like it best when you wear it loose.”
“Thank
you, melethron2.”
Glorfindel caught Erestor’s hand in his and pressed a kiss onto the palm. “I
talked to Ecthelion yesterday and he is quite pleased with your growing
weapon’s skill.”
“I
need to train more and harder if I am ever to equal his skill.”
Glorfindel
smiled, lazily. “Ecthelion has a head start, Erestor. He has been training for many
years.” His lips trailed upwards, bestowing light kisses on the inside of
Erestor’s wrist.
It
still amazed Glorfindel how easily and quickly he had grown accustomed to
Erestor’s presence – and even more importantly – his love. Their connection had
deepened their love further and Glorfindel felt like he had known and loved
Erestor for millennia, instead of just two weeks. “I did some studying this
morn.”
One
of Erestor’s elegantly carved eyebrows inched higher. “Studying?” Glorfindel
had been spending time in his impressive library and the blond Elf had been
quite mysterious as to why.
“Aye,
I found some scrolls, which provided me with more details on lovemaking.”
Glorfindel grinned, seeing a wicked glint appear in Erestor’s eyes. “I do not
wish to leave you sore the next time we make love.” Erestor had been in
discomfort for several days, and although the dark-haired Elf had tried to hide
that from him, Glorfindel had seen it. “You definitely went too fast that first
time.”
Erestor
leaned in closer, allowing his lips to brush Glorfindel’s. “It was worth it, as
we are bound now.”
“But
I refuse to take you again in such a manner. The next time we make love I will
prepare you properly.”
“Prepare
me?” The eyebrow moved even higher.
“You
will find out tonight,” promised Glorfindel. He had enjoyed the teasing
sensation of Erestor’s lips brushing his, but he was hungry for more and kissed
his lover. Erestor deepened the kiss, which Glorfindel allowed, and they only
broke apart when they were both short of breath.
“Tonight?”
Erestor panted, already growing excited at the mere thought of being intimate
with Glorfindel again. “It has been two weeks since…” Glorfindel had refused to
take him whilst he felt sore and Erestor didn’t feel confident enough yet to
reverse their roles and take Glorfindel.
“Aye,
we will make love tonight. But first, we must entertain our guests.”
Erestor
nodded once. Idril, Tuor and their son would visit with them tonight and
Glorfindel had ordered a feast to honor Eärendil’s birth. The members of
Glorfindel’s household would make merry tonight.
“You
will like them,” said Glorfindel, lacing his fingers with Erestor’s.
Erestor
moved even closer and ended up on Glorfindel’s lap, straddling his lover’s
muscular thighs. “Glorfindel, how serious is our situation? How quickly do you
think Morgoth will attack?”
Surprised,
Glorfindel sucked in his breath. “How did you learn of this threat?”
“I
heard Ecthelion and you talk one night when you thought that I was asleep. He had
just returned from visiting with Turgon and he sounded worried, as Turgon
refused to make plans for an evacuation.”
Glorfindel
chided himself for not confiding in Erestor. /It was only a matter of time
before he found out./ His lover was highly intelligent and cunning and might
even be a help in this matter. “Aye, Turgon’s behavior worries me. It was
foretold that Ulmö would send a messenger, but our High-King is convinced
Gondolin will withstand Morgoth’s attack and emerge victorious.”
“Then
your High-King is a fool.”
Glorfindel
tensed. “He is your High-King as well.” But Erestor shook his head, surprising
him further.
“No
Elven King rules me,” said Erestor, decisively. “Glorfindel, may I offer you my
advice?”
Impressed
by his lover’s directness, Glorfindel nodded.
“Make
plans for an evacuation. Create a way out of this valley, for once Morgoth
attacks he will cut off your escape route. You need to have an alternative way
to leave Gondolin. Think of all the innocent ones who will fall if Turgon’s pride
remains.”
“Your
advice is sound, Erestor.” Glorfindel caressed his lover’s face. He was tempted
to question Erestor on his advice, thinking it was *very* sound for someone who
professed to be amnesic. Erestor’s tone had been intimate, as if knowing what
evil Morgoth was capable of first hand. “Ecthelion and I will take it to
heart.”
“Do
not waste time, Glorfindel. Morgoth is already assembling his army.” Erestor
realized he had given away too much when Glorfindel’s eyes widened.
“How
do you know?”
He
couldn’t tell Glorfindel that as one of the Valar, such knowledge was his, so
he used the same way out as when he had told Ecthelion about Elrohir. “It came
to me in my dreams.”
Glorfindel
remained suspicious, but it was hard to be cross with the one he loved so much.
Focusing on their mental connection, he sensed only sincerity; Erestor meant
well. Glorfindel nodded once and let the matter rest. “We need to bathe and
change our clothing. Tuor and his family will arrive before sunset.”
“Tuor
is a mortal, is he not?” Erestor didn’t want to make any mistakes tonight,
knowing how much Glorfindel liked the royal couple. “And Idril is Turgon’s
daughter.”
Glorfindel
buried his fingers in Erestor’s ebony hair. “And Eärendil, their son, is
half-Elven. Idril told me that he is quite a handful already. That does not
bear well for that family line. Thankfully it will be a while before Eärendil
will start his own family of stubborn Peredhil3.”
Erestor
frowned at hearing that; something tugged at the edges of his mind, but the
vision wouldn’t come to him. All he saw was an image of Ecthelion. Maybe this
had something to do with Elrohir? The Elf meant to be Ecthelion’s lover?
/Elrohir Peredhel4? A half-Elf?/
“Erestor?
Does something trouble you?”
“Nay.”
Erestor reluctantly pulled away from Glorfindel and got to his feet. Hopefully
the vision would come to him tonight when Eärendil was close enough to evoke
it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You
look lovely,” whispered Erestor into Glorfindel’s right ear. The fair
“You
look stunning yourself.” Glorfindel had been surprised to see Erestor dressed
in midnight blue robes with purple lining, but the dark colors suited his
lover. Erestor wore his hair loose and unadorned and Glorfindel used the
opportunity to finger-comb his lover’s mane. The large, deer-like eyes more
resembled black than the usual brown.
On
the nightstand stood a vase containing the roses which had come to bloom when
they had made love. They should have withered by now, but they were still in
full bloom.
Glorfindel
playfully tugged at a strand of his lover’s hair and then released the lock to
seek out Erestor’s hand. He curled his fingers around Erestor’s hand and pulled
his lover along. The feast would take place in the main hall, and in certain
parts of the gardens, as the weather was dry and still warm. “Come with me, melethen. They are already waiting for
us.” He had kept back during their shared bath, though his fingers had itched
to touch his lover’s silken skin. /Tonight,/ Glorfindel told himself. /I will
make him mine tonight./
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Idril
cradled her son close to her chest, as she strode into the main hall to take
part in tonight’s celebrations. Tuor, her husband, was at her side, taking in
the splendor of the House of the Golden Flower, which he had never visited
before. Glorfindel and he had met on several occasions and a deep respect had
formed – a friendship even, for which he felt most grateful. Glorfindel wasn’t
like some of the Elves at Turgon’s court, who looked down on him because he was
a mortal. No, Glorfindel, and also Ecthelion, had accepted him and treated him
as an equal.
“I
welcome you to my home!” The Elves made way for Glorfindel, as their Lord
advanced on the royal couple. Glorfindel embraced Tuor, briefly squeezing the
Man’s shoulder. “You are most welcome! All three of you!” Next, he greeted
Idril and congratulated her on the birth of her son. Curiously, he looked at
the newborn, and found that dark hair already graced the tiny head. “Follow
me!”
Erestor
had watched the couple with interest and his first impression told him that he
could grow to like them. He followed suit when Glorfindel guided the royal
couple to the head table, where they seated themselves.
Now
that Idril sat comfortably, Glorfindel reached for Erestor, eager to introduce
his beloved to the couple. “Idril, Tuor, this is Erestor, my bonded mate.”
Erestor
bowed for Idril, not because she was an Elven Princess, but because he was in
awe of the life she had created. “My Lady, I am honored to meet you.”
Idril
smiled and shifted the sleeping baby in her arms. “Glorfindel already told me
about you, Erestor. I am glad to finally make your acquaintance. The light that
shines in Glorfindel’s eyes has become radiant since you entered his life.”
Erestor
gracefully accepted the compliment. His gaze then shifted to Eärendil, and once
more a vision tugged at the edges of his mind. However, it still refused to
surface fully. “I see the Valar have blessed you with new life.”
“Aye,
Eärendil is a most precious gift.” Idril stroked her son’s face, smiling when
he remained asleep. “He is a good baby and hardly cries.”
Tuor
kept a close eye on Erestor, as the dark-haired Elf *was* a stranger to him and
he felt very protective of his wife and newborn. The unwelcome attention which
Maeglin often paid to Idril had made him wary.
Erestor
seated himself next to Idril, ignoring the suspicious look Tuor was giving him.
He understood the Man’s protectiveness. “Would you permit me to hold him?”
Surprised
at hearing Erestor’s request, Idril sought out Glorfindel’s eyes. She had known
the golden-haired warrior her entire life and trusted him, but this involved
her child – her son!
Glorfindel
had been surprised as well, not thinking Erestor would want to hold the newborn,
but he nodded encouragingly.
Idril
managed a smile and then lowered Eärendil into Erestor’s arms. Next to her,
Tuor shifted closer. Like her, he felt protective of their son and she couldn’t
blame him.
To
Tuor’s surprise his son’s eyes opened and the newborn seemed to focus on
Erestor, who was cooing softly and rocking the baby. A moment later, Eärendil
began to chuckle softly, his tiny hands reaching for Erestor’s raven hair. Tuor
relaxed, now that his son seemed to have taken a liking to Erestor, which
surprised him. Eärendil wasn’t a child who allowed just anybody to hold him.
Erestor
gave Glorfindel a pleased look. “He feels warm.” But he wasn’t referring to the
tiny body in his arms. Eärendil’s fëa5 felt warm, eager and
ambitious. /You are destined for great things./ Then, the vision approached,
finally showing him what he had sensed for days now.
Ecthelion
and Elrohir were holding hands, and gazed lovingly in each other’s eyes. The
love they shared was palpable and made Erestor smile. Aye, he had been right.
Elrohir was Ecthelion’s future lover and somehow the Elf was related to
Eärendil. /Half-Elf,/ he thought, correcting himself.
As
if on cue, Ecthelion entered the main hall to take part in the festivities. At
his side was Lindir.
Erestor
blinked once and the vision vanished.
“May
I have my son back, Erestor?” asked Idril. Tuor was growing more nervous with
every passing second and Idril opted for action before her husband would
intervene.
“Thank
you for letting me hold him.” Erestor carefully placed the newborn back into
Idril’s arms. His attention shifted from the baby to Lindir and Ecthelion.
Lindir looked remarkable, dressed in his dark-green robes, lined with threads
of silver. He seated himself close to his harp, which he now lowered against
his shoulder. Ecthelion uncovered a slim, mithril flute and seated himself at
Lindir’s feet.
The
music started and Erestor cradled Glorfindel’s hand in his, stroking the skin in
time with the cadence of the song. Flute and harp intertwined, creating a
hauntingly beautiful melody that floated through the hall. Elven lips remained
sealed and none spoke during their performance. Eyes, filled with awe, locked
on the two musicians.
The
music came to an end and silence filled the halls. One Elf after another rose
from their chairs to compliment Lindir and Ecthelion on the outstanding
performance and the two musicians gracefully accepted their kind words. Once
the commotion had died down, Ecthelion joined the royal couple, sitting down
beside Glorfindel, whilst Lindir started another song, quieter and less intense
than the last one.
Whilst
Glorfindel and Ecthelion talked, Erestor’s gaze met Tuor’s once more. There was
strength in the Man -- strength, valor and a great sense of honor. /I like
Tuor,/ realized Erestor. /And I like his family./ That evening Erestor allowed
Tuor, Idril and Eärendil into his heart, hoping the royal couple and he would
become good friends.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Later
that night, Glorfindel took hold of Erestor’s hand and pulled him toward their
rooms. Idril and Tuor had long since left and most of the Elves who had
gathered in the main hall were retiring. Only Lindir and Ecthelion remained to
entertain the remaining Elves with their music.
“I
told you what would happen tonight, melethen,”
whispered Glorfindel into Erestor’s ear after pulling his beloved into their
chambers. He closed the door behind them and then locked it to ensure that no
one would disturb them. “Are you ready to be thoroughly loved?”
“More
than ready.” Erestor pulled Glorfindel close and claimed the soft, red lips.
Glorfindel’s hands already tugged at the clasps holding his outer robes in
place and they were quickly undone, allowing for the fabric to pool around his
feet. Clad only in a light under tunic, Erestor playfully nipped at
Glorfindel’s bottom lip. “Will you take me again? Make me feel you?”
Glorfindel
nodded, taking in the breathtaking sight Erestor presented. “Raise your arms.”
Erestor complied and Glorfindel removed the under tunic, revealing his lover’s
naked body to him. “You are magnificent.” Erestor was even developing muscle
tone now that he was working out with Ecthelion. “I want to eat you… taste
you.”
Growing
weak in the knees, Erestor allowed Glorfindel to guide him to their four-poster
bed. He lay down, quivering with arousal, and feeling the silken material
beneath his back only added to his eagerness. He loved the fact that Glorfindel
preferred silken sheets over cotton. “What did you learn, studying those
secretive scrolls in your library?” His eyes filled with lust, as they watched
Glorfindel shrug out of his own robes.
Naked,
the warrior went down on his knees on the floor and then pulled his lover’s
lower body close with a sharp tug. Erestor’s breath caught when Glorfindel
guided his legs atop of his shoulder.
“Lean
back, melethron, and then I will show
you.” Glorfindel felt nervous now that he was about to orally pleasure his
beloved for the first time. He had read how to bring Erestor to orgasm and he
had practiced relaxing his throat muscles, but actually doing it was different.
Erestor
complied and lay down on his back. He recalled trying to do this for his lover
when they had been together that first time, but he had gagged and had
abandoned the effort to bring Glorfindel to orgasm in that way.
Glorfindel
ran his hands down Erestor’s flanks and kissed his way up the thigh. Erestor’s
scent was already strong and his lover’s member had hardened. Droplets of
transparent pre-ejaculate
clung to the inflamed head and Glorfindel drew in a last deep breath before
licking the tip and tasting his lover for the first time.
Erestor
forced himself to remain motionless, though his first instinct was to thrust
upward. Warm fingers stroked his sac and a wet tongue twirled over the head.
“Oh, melethen!”
Glorfindel
placed his hands on Erestor’s hips, making sure his lover wouldn’t thrust
unexpectedly. Erestor tasted bitter, of salt and the sea, but he knew he would grow
accustomed to the taste. Parting his lips and teeth, he slowly sank down onto
his lover’s length whilst cupping Erestor’s testes in one hand.
Erestor’s
eyes widened in pleasure now that a wet heat surrounded his hard flesh. Oh,
Glorfindel was definitely more talented at this than he was! And then, this
wonderful manipulation started. One hand massaged his sac, fingers stroked his
erection, a tongue licked at his shaft and then his lover began to suck him in
earnest. Silken hair lay draped over his groin and Erestor caressed the
strands, eventually resting a hand on Glorfindel’s head. He massaged the scalp,
trying hard not to thrust into his lover’s willing mouth. “I am close… too
close,” he whispered, sensing the first signs of impending release.
Good,
that was exactly what Glorfindel wanted! He increased the pace of his strokes
and sucked on his lover’s erection, eating him whole.
“Argh!”
Erestor thrust deeply and spilled himself in his lover’s talented mouth.
The
warm cream splashed against the back of Glorfindel’s throat and he fought to
stay relaxed and not to gag. He swallowed, convulsively, and then released
Erestor’s twitching member.
Panting
hard, Erestor pushed himself into an upright position and took in his lover’s
debauched look. “You missed a droplet.” His fingers trembled, removing his
semen from Glorfindel’s lips.
Glorfindel
smiled at his lover and lowered the long legs until Erestor’s feet made contact
with the floor again. “Did I please you?”
Impressed,
Erestor nodded once. “You did. You should give me those scrolls you studied.
Then I might be able to return the pleasure.” Glorfindel was still hard, and
Erestor reached for his lover, pulling the blond Elf onto the bed with him.
“You still have to find release. Will you come inside of me?” He felt utterly
relaxed and sated and looked expectedly at his lover, who was kneeling at his
side.
“Aye,
I will, but this time we will do it properly.” Glorfindel reached for the
nightstand, opened the drawer and retrieved a mithril vial.
“What
is that?” Sitting cross-legged, Erestor watched Glorfindel remove the stopper.
“That
first time I used the healing juices of a plant to ease my way in, but we
should have used oil instead.” Glorfindel looked deeply into Erestor’s trusting
eyes. “I promise you that there won’t be much pain this time.”
“But
still some.”
“I
am afraid that cannot be helped, melethen.
You are tight.” Glorfindel considered his lover and then reached a decision.
“Would you move onto your hands and knees for me? I do think that position will
be the least stressful on you.”
“Hands
and knees? But then I cannot see your face.”
“Do
you trust me?”
“I
trust you, Glorfindel.” Erestor moved onto his hands and knees, growing nervous
in spite of the trust he had in Glorfindel.
Glorfindel
coated one finger with the oil and then inched closer to Erestor, kneeling
behind his lover. “I love you,” he whispered, placing butterfly kisses on his
lover’s buttocks.
Erestor
relaxed under the kisses, but then tensed again, feeling something wet and
slippery settle against the opening to his body. “Melethron? What are you doing?”
“I
should prepare you thoroughly. You see, you were in so much pain before because
I did not stretch you.” Glorfindel continued to kiss, lick, and playfully bite
Erestor’s backside and when his lover relaxed again, he inserted the tip of his
finger.
Startled,
Erestor’s eyes widened. Somehow the slow pace Glorfindel was setting unnerved
him. /I do not know what to expect,/ he realized. That first time everything
had happened within a heartbeat.
Glorfindel
sensed Erestor’s need and began to explain. “One finger first. I am slowly
opening you up. Just relax.” Bending forward, his lips left kisses on the small
of Erestor’s back. He reached beneath his lover’s body and massaged Erestor’s
lax member.
Erestor
closed his eyes and focused on Glorfindel’s voice and the finger that now
probed deeper. It wasn’t unpleasant at all, and his lover’s finger fit nicely.
Growing enthusiastic, Erestor pushed back. “Oh…!” His breath caught when the
tip of Glorfindel’s finger rubbed a sensitive spot inside his passage. “Do that
again!” Rubbing that spot had transformed pain into pleasure when they had made
love that first time.
Obliging
his lover, Glorfindel aimed for the same spot. Erestor’s member was growing
hard within his grip and he tugged, hard. Erestor yelped, and then looked over
his shoulder at him with wide eyes. Glorfindel grinned and removed his finger
from his lover’s body. “Two.”
Erestor
wondered what Glorfindel meant, but then the invading feeling returned,
stronger and bigger this time. /Two fingers./ That was what Glorfindel had
meant. The two digits felt big inside him, and caused him a bit of discomfort,
but the pain remained absent. Soon, he was pushing back again, moaning sharply,
as Glorfindel’s fingers brushed that spot again.
“Three.”
Glorfindel added more oil and inserted three fingers into his lover’s loosening
passage. Scissoring them inside the channel, he opened Erestor’s body further
up to him. Erestor moved frantically against him, pushing back and practically
taking himself. His lover’s shaft was wet with desire and Glorfindel felt the
time had come to claim Erestor.
Erestor
wailed, now that Glorfindel removed his fingers from his body. The hand, which
had brought him such pleasure, released his throbbing erection.
“Are
you ready for me, melethron?”
Glorfindel moved closer to Erestor’s backside, took himself into hand after
generously coating his length with the oil, and positioned himself.
“Aye,
I am…” Erestor threw back his head, looked over his shoulder and savored the
sight that greeted him. Glorfindel was glorious in his lust. And Glorfindel
wanted him! Only him. “Now!”
Glorfindel
forced himself to enter his lover slowly. He inched inside, pausing regularly
to give Erestor a chance to grow accustomed to the growing bulk inside him.
Erestor
yelped and remained motionless. This time, the penetration didn’t hurt that much,
and encouraged, he pushed back, causing Glorfindel to slide inside to the hilt.
“Oh,
yes…” Glorfindel grabbed hold of Erestor’s waist and rotated his hips, trying
to inch in even deeper. Mesmerized, he looked down at the place where his
member vanished into Erestor’s body. It was the most erotic scene he had ever
seen.
A
purr, coming from deep within Erestor’s throat, reminded him that he was
supposed to move – and move he did. With his first stroke, he massaged his
lover’s sweet spot and then pulled out, only to creep inside again -- painfully
slow. This was so different from their first time, when he had taken Erestor
without much preparation. Erestor pushed back, meeting each thrust and
Glorfindel managed to set a pleasing pace – shallow and slow instead of hard
and deep.
“Yes…
yes…yes!” Erestor fought the urge to stroke himself to completion, as he didn’t
want to reach orgasm before his lover did, and moved obediently to Glorfindel’s
sensual thrusts.
Glorfindel’s
hand slowly moved into Erestor’s dark mane. First, the fingers caressed the
locks, but then they clawed at the silken hair. Riding Erestor like a stallion
on a willing mare, his thrusts unwillingly deepened.
As
Glorfindel was tugging at his hair, Erestor found himself pulled close to his
lover’s chest. His fingers lost contact with the mattress and Glorfindel pulled
him into a vertical position.
Glorfindel
released the silken mass of hair, realizing the hold had become painful for
Erestor and wrapped one arm around his lover’s waist, supporting him whilst the
thorough pounding continued. The back of Erestor’s head came to rest against
his shoulder and he used this opportunity to taste his lover again, claiming
Erestor’s lips in a bruising kiss.
“Close…”
whimpered Erestor into Glorfindel’s mouth. Promptly, his lover’s fingers
wrapped themselves around his hard flesh and stroked, almost frantically. The
dual sensation of being taken and moving inside Glorfindel’s fist caused
Erestor to climax.
Glorfindel
bit into Erestor’s shoulder, marking the dark-haired Elf as his own. The moment
Erestor’s muscle began to contract around him, he allowed himself to let go.
They reached completion together and quivered against each other.
Even
though the ecstasy moving through him nearly overwhelmed him, Glorfindel
continued to support his trembling lover, who sat impaled on his still hard
member. Bruised flesh slipped from his lips and he soothed the damaged skin by
kissing it.
Exhausted,
Erestor rested heavily against his lover. It was Glorfindel’s arm, wrapped
around his waist, which kept him upright and his head lolled from one side to
the other.
Sated,
Glorfindel slowly pulled out and lovingly lowered his lover back onto the bed.
Resting
on his stomach, Erestor managed to turn his head to look at Glorfindel. “That
was…” He lacked the right words to describe this divine sensation running
through him.
Glorfindel
smiled, warmly, and stretched beside his lover. “All I want is to please you.”
“You
did,” whispered Erestor, slowly moving onto his side until he was face to face
with his beloved. “I need to read those scrolls.”
“I
will instruct my librarian to take them to my office for you to study.”
Glorfindel draped an arm across Erestor’s waist, rubbing the skin there. “The next
time I want you to claim me.”
Erestor
wiggled an eyebrow. “Are you certain?”
“Aye,
I want to feel the same ecstasy you just did.” Glorfindel pressed a tender kiss
onto his lover’s brow. Their lovemaking had left him tired and Glorfindel’s
azure eyes slowly grew blank.
Erestor
affectionately folded an arm around Glorfindel and breathed in his lover’s
musky scent. /It was worth it. Sacrificing my former life was worth it./
Snuggling closer to Glorfindel, he followed his beloved into sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Glorfindel?”
Keeping in mind that last night had been long and tiring on all of the partying
Elves, Ecthelion softly called out his friend’s name before knocking on the
door to Glorfindel’s rooms. He didn’t get a reply and tried to open the door,
which to his utter amazement was locked. Glorfindel never locked his door!
Alarmed, Ecthelion removed a hair pin from his braids and picked the lock.
Something must be wrong for Glorfindel to lock his door!
Pushing
the door open, he was about to storm into the rooms to assist his friend, but
then he remained standing frozen in the doorway. /Stupid! I should have
realized why he had locked the door!/ Glorfindel wasn’t alone in his bed. In
his arms rested Erestor, naked and ravished-looking. Ecthelion spotted the bite
mark and realized he should have turned away instead of picking the lock. But
now that he was looking at them, he indulged himself and admired their beauty.
/Sun and moon… light and dark./ The air in the room was heavy and smelled of musky
release. /They just made love./ Ecthelion quickly closed the door behind him.
/I want that. I want a lover./ Erestor had given him a name – Elrohir – but he
knew no one with that name.
Just
how long would the Valar make him wait?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Erestor
carefully lowered himself into the chair. Glorfindel and he had agreed to have
breakfast with Ecthelion and Lindir, but now he regretted that decision.
Although his beloved hadn’t left him as sore as that first time, there was
still some mild discomfort and he squirmed, trying to adopt a more comfortable
sitting position. Thankfully, Lindir and Ecthelion refrained from commenting on
his condition and continued their conversation.
Standing
near the corner, Glorfindel’s eyes darkened, seeing his lover’s hesitant
movement. So far, they had made love twice and he had left his beloved hurting
on both accounts. Trying to make up for causing him discomfort, he brought
Erestor his breakfast tea and a plate filled with food.
“Thank
you,” said Erestor, giving his lover a radiant smile.
Glorfindel
seated himself and sipped his tea, occasionally nibbling on a piece of bread.
Last night had left him in awe – more precisely, Erestor’s response to his
lovemaking had left him awed. His dark-haired lover had let go, surrendering
completely. Oh, how much he loved Erestor for that!
“What
are your plans for today?” inquired Ecthelion, pushing his plate away, having
finished his breakfast.
Glorfindel
sighed now that duty called once more. “I want to inspect the Seven Gates, make
a new duty roster and train with my men.” His loving gaze came to rest on
Erestor. “But during the evening and night I am yours.”
Pleased,
Erestor gathered Glorfindel’s hand in his and kissed its back. “I will train
hard today and make you proud!”
But
Glorfindel shook his head. “I would rather have you studying in the library.”
His
lover’s words surprised Erestor at first, but then he understood. Glorfindel
was worried he wouldn’t be on his best during the training after their nightly
activities. “I will humor you,” he said in wicked tone. “And study certain
scrolls you recommended to me.”
Glorfindel
successfully fought his blush and rose from his chair. “Ecthelion? Will you join
me on my inspection round?”
Ecthelion
got to his feet and joined his friend. “Aye, we should make certain that all of
the Gates are properly guarded.” His gaze shifted to Erestor. “Especially since
we still do not know how you entered the valley.”
Ecthelion’s
words made Erestor feel guilty, but he simply couldn’t tell him that his father
had used his powers to transport him to Gondolin.
Taking
Erestor’s silence as a denial, Ecthelion gestured for Glorfindel to follow him
out of the hall. They had a long day ahead of them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After
studying in the library for an hour – and learning new ways to pleasure
Glorfindel – Erestor left, eager for some company. In the end, he discovered
Lindir, seated in his favorite part of the garden. The minstrel was practicing
the flute today and Erestor sat down, watching the white-haired Elf. Magic
clung to this one and Erestor felt drawn to him. The music led its own life
inside Lindir, allowing for the minstrel’s inner light to burn brightly.
The
song ended and Lindir grew aware of Erestor’s presence. Smiling, he inclined
his head. “I thought you would spend the day studying?”
“I
grew lonely.”
“You
miss Glorfindel.”
“I
do.” Erestor shifted on the hard earth until he sat more comfortably. “How old
are you, Lindir?”
Lindir
smiled, mysteriously. “Old enough to have seen Valinor.”
“I
already thought so.” Erestor moved closer to the minstrel and picked up the
lyre, playing a melancholy melody. “Did you ever regret leaving the Undying
Lands?”
“At
first I did,” replied Lindir, honestly. “The journey from Aman was long and
cost many lives. Many of my kin died – were murdered in the Kinslayings.”
“But
you survived.”
Lindir
nodded, thoughtfully. “Seeing my friends and family die around me made me wish
my life had been ended as well, but now I feel grateful I was spared. I try to
put my pain and heartbreak in my songs and to keep my loved ones alive in that
way.”
“Is
that why you never sought out a lover?” Erestor stopped playing and studied
Lindir. A deep pain lay hidden within the frosty eyes. “You did have a lover
once, didn’t you?”
“Nay,
I did not. I was in love, but nothing came of it.” Lindir delicately moistened
his lips. “I do not wish to discuss this.”
“Who
was he?”
“My
teacher.” Lindir straightened his shoulders and met Erestor’s gaze. “He taught
me to play the lyre, the harp, the flute and many more instruments. He formed
and guided me, making me into the minstrel I am today.”
“What
happened?” Erestor placed the lyre aside and rested his hand on Lindir’s
trembling hand. The fingers twitched beneath his, revealing Lindir’s
nervousness.
“The
sons of Fëanor ended his life.” Lindir had long mourned the loss.
“I
am sorry for your loss.” Lindir’s beloved dwelt in his father’s halls then.
“And you never tried again?”
“I
have not yet found a heart similar to my own, Erestor.” After uttering those
words, he considered the topic closed. “Would you like another lesson in
playing the lyre? Or would you like to try the flute?” From the corner of his
eyes, he saw a she-Elf approaching, wearing luxurious robes in gray and silver.
Long, mithril hair hung loose and danced against the small of her back. She was
more than beautiful, and Lindir was certain he had never seen her before, as he
would have immortalized her exquisiteness in his songs.
Erestor
was about to answer Lindir’s question when he suddenly sensed his mother’s
presence. Surprised, he looked over his shoulder and found her standing behind
him. Her eyes glittered with love and she lowered herself onto the grass beside
him.
“My
Lady, I do not think we ever met before.” Lindir wanted to rise from the earth
to bow in respect, but the mysterious she-Elf smiled and gestured for him to
remain seated.
“Do
not trouble yourself, master-minstrel.”
Her
voice resembled the sound of silver bells, being jostled into action by a light
breeze and utterly captivated Lindir. “Thank you, my Lady.”
Erestor’s
eyes sparkled with happiness at having his mother this close. /I missed you./
Vairë’s
gaze shifted from Lindir to her son. /And I missed you, Erestor. That is why I
am here./
/And
father allows it?/
/Your
father did not get a say in this matter./ She straightened the folds of her
dress and then smiled at Lindir. “Would you indulge me and sing,
master-minstrel? I have heard your voice from a distance, and now I want to sit
here and listen to your magical voice once more.”
Lindir
nodded and picked up his lyre. “I will sing for you, my Lady.” Studying this
lovely vision closely, he found that she had curled her fingers around
Erestor’s and was now leaning against him for comfort. That struck him as odd,
but he dismissed the thought, concentrating on his music instead.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Námo
watched his wife and son from a distance. He wanted to join them, but couldn’t.
Erestor was now experiencing bliss and happiness, and they would continue for
seven years, but then Gondolin would fall and he would have to perform his duty
as the Doomsman of the Valar. That also included harvesting his son’s
companions’ souls.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Erestor
was more excited than he wanted either Ecthelion or Glorfindel to know. For
weeks now, he had been waiting for an opportunity to explore the
“Allow
me, melethen.” Glorfindel stepped
behind Erestor and ran a comb through the long mane. Once he had done away with
any tangles, he began to braid it into simple, thick plaits, which he fastened
on the back of Erestor’s head, using one of his own hair clips in the form of a
golden flower. “You should stay close to me today. The market square can be
rather crowded and I do not want to lose sight of you.”
Glorfindel
turned Erestor around and looked at his beloved. Erestor had been in his home
for a month now, and had already secured himself a place in his heart. “Gondolin
is a safe city, but…”
“You
worry about Maeglin.”
Glorfindel
nodded once. Even though Maeglin hadn’t met Erestor yet, the Elf had taken a
disliking to both of them after learning that Idril often visited the House of the
Golden Flower in search of their company. “These are strange times and Maeglin
is hard to read.” He wouldn’t put it past the younger Elf to slay one of their
kind.
“Are
you ready to go?” Ecthelion, dressed in warm blues and earth tones, leaned
against the doorframe.
Erestor
gave his friend and teacher a stunning smile. They still trained on a daily
bases and his weapon’s skill continued to improve. But even more important was
that Ecthelion and he were beginning to build a solid friendship. “As ready as
I ever will be!”
Glorfindel
slipped his hand into Erestor’s and together they walked toward the doorway.
“Any news from our King?” he asked, addressing Ecthelion.
Ecthelion’s
gaze darkened. “He still dismisses Tuor’s warning and instead, he has ordered
more intense training rounds for our guards. He is convinced the city will
withstand an attack.”
Glorfindel
sighed. “Then we must accept that Turgon won’t listen to reason, and plan an
escape route.”
“You
should make certain Tuor and his family knows of this escape route.” Erestor’s
powers told him that it was important they survived. “Maybe we could delve a
tunnel, starting from Idril’s home?”
“I
will tell them of your idea the next time we meet.” Glorfindel rubbed Erestor’s
fingers and looked at this love. “Remember, stay close.”
“I
will. Stop worrying.” Erestor placed a light kiss on Glorfindel’s cheek and
listened to Ecthelion chuckle. He was very blessed to have such companions in
life.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Gondolin
buzzed with busy merchants, possible customers, she-Elves, guards and children.
The overall experience was rather overwhelming and the sounds grew even louder
when they stepped into the crowded market square. Erestor’s hold on
Glorfindel’s hand tightened and he followed his beloved, who guided him toward
a stand filled with precious fabrics.
“You
need more formal robes,” decided Glorfindel, pointing out several fabrics to
him.
Erestor
indulged his beloved and selected a fabric, burgundy with strands of brown and
gold woven into the material. So far, he had worn Glorfindel’s clothes, but he
understood that couldn’t continue. It would be more appropriate if he had his
own sets of clothes.
Ecthelion
brought over more fabrics, and Erestor chose a rich green, lined with blue and
silver. The merchant, smelling a good deal, brought out the accessories and
soon Glorfindel had also purchased underwear, socks and a pair of house shoes
for Erestor.
Erestor
watched Glorfindel, who was happily spending his money on him. The three of
them eventually moved on and Erestor pointed out some delicious looking apples,
which Ecthelion acquired for them. Moving on, they left the market square and
sought out the peace and quiet of the gardens. They settled down beneath an ash
tree, listening to the soft splashing of water coming from the fountain.
They
talked about politics, music and Gondolin, completely at ease with each other’s
company. But then a shadow appeared, growing longer. Erestor looked up, as the
shadow prevented Arien’s rays from reaching him, and grew alert. The Elf who
stood watching him was dark-haired and dark-eyed, tall and handsome, but there
was something in the black eyes that worried Erestor. This Elf’s inner light
wasn’t bright and warm – it was only a tiny flame, threatening to suffocate
with darkness. There was much good in this Elf, but life hadn’t treated him
kindly and had made him into a darker version of what should have been.
“Maeglin.”
Glorfindel reached for his dagger, but realized too late he had left his home
unarmed, not expecting to encounter danger in the city. He should have known
better, though.
Erestor
successfully hid his feelings and didn’t show any of Glorfindel’s unease, which
was obvious for all to see, and studied Maeglin instead. The Elf was nothing
like he had imagined he would be like. From what he had gathered, Maeglin was
evil, but when he reached out to probe the Elf’s mind, he sensed no evil – only
pride and arrogance, and there was something else too… something he couldn’t
label yet. He could see why Turgon would call upon Maeglin to council him; the
two Elves shared the same arrogant pride. /And Gondolin will pay the price for
that./
Fascinated,
Maeglin took in Erestor’s appearance. Erestor’s raven beauty called out to him,
but he pushed the thought away, focusing on his attraction toward Idril
instead. “I do not think we have met before. My name is Maeglin.”
Erestor
pushed himself into an upright position – as he had been lying down – and rose
from the grass. Standing opposite each other, they studied one another
extensively. “My name is Erestor.” His mind pushed further, but was careful not
to draw attention to the mental probing. /Who are you and what made you the way
you are now?/ He wanted answers to those questions. A vision came to him then,
showing him Maeglin cowering before Morgoth and betraying those living in
Gondolin. A bargain was struck and promises were made. He blinked, and the
vision cleared. He found Glorfindel at his side, supporting him.
Maeglin
frowned, as Erestor’s behavior puzzled him. He hadn’t thought to come upon
Glorfindel’s mysterious lover, but when he had seen the three of them settle
down, his curiosity had awoken. He had to admit that Erestor possessed a rare
kind of beauty, but the Elf didn’t compare to Idril.
Erestor
stood his ground, now knowing that Maeglin’s heart would be corrupted in the
near future. Gondolin only had a few years of peace left.
“I
should be on my way now. My uncle awaits my arrival.” Maeglin inclined his head
and left the three Elves, heading for the King’s Tower to meet with Turgon. He
looked at Erestor from over his shoulder, walking away from them, and wondered
about the pity-filled look the raven-haired Elf was giving him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Back
in the confines of their rooms, Glorfindel drew Erestor close. “You have been
remarkably quiet since we ran into Maeglin.” His fingers moved through his
lover’s hair and he steered Erestor toward the bed.
Erestor
sat down and leaned against Glorfindel, sitting beside him. Telling Glorfindel
of his visions would bring him relief, but he also knew his father wouldn’t
allow it and see it as a breach of his rules. He had to keep quiet and let
things take their course. He wasn’t allowed to meddle and change what was to
come. “I am worried,” he said, eventually. “For Idril and her son.”
“We
can visit with them in the morning, if you would like that.” Glorfindel lowered
them onto the bed and tucked his lover’s head beneath his chin. “You have taken
a liking to them.”
“We
must protect them and ensure their safety.” Aye, they would visit with Tuor
tomorrow and he would suggest delving that tunnel. They might just have enough
time yet to finish it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Idril
rocked her son in her arms, sharing Erestor’s concern. “I have had dreams,” she
whispered, cradling Eärendil close. “And they speak of a great danger, at which
root is Maeglin.”
“I
feel the same way,” said Tuor, who sat beside his wife with his arm
protectively wrapped around her waist. “It is only a matter of time before he
will act and I am worried…” He was only mortal. What if he died and Idril was
left alone to deal with Maeglin? He wouldn’t live as long as one of the
Firstborn and he didn’t possess their healing ability.
Eärendil
chose that moment to wake up. His baby-blue eyes focused on his mother first,
but the child then sensed Erestor’s presence. To him, the Vala felt warm and
inviting and he started to crawl around on Idril’s lap, trying to locate
Erestor.
“He
wants you,” said Idril with a smile. She gathered her son close and then placed
him in Erestor’s arms. Beside her, Tuor remained relaxed. Her husband had begun
to trust Erestor and no longer grew tense when his son rested in the Elf’s
arms.
Erestor
sat Eärendil on his lap and smiled at the baby. /Of course, you had dreams,
Idril./ As the King’s daughter was already blessed with foresight, he had
minutely manipulated her visions, knowing she would confide in Tuor and ask him
to take care of delving the tunnel.
“Mae
govannen, pen-neth.” Eärendil’s big blue eyes grew alight with mirth and the
baby cooed at him. The child’s arms opened and tried to fold around him,
failing miserably. Seeing the disappointment in the baby’s eyes, Erestor acted
and hugged him close. /No matter what will happen in the future, I promise you
will be safe./ He didn’t know when it had happened, but he had lost his heart
to the little one.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Glorfindel
threw more wood onto the fire and padded back to their bed. Erestor was already
beneath the covers, and his lover’s eyes stared blankly at the ceiling. He
discarded his evening robe and slipped into bed as well. “That tunnel will
ensure their escape.”
Erestor
nodded, turned onto his left, and looked at his beloved. Their time here was
limited – their happiness already counted out in years. /I will make you happy
in whatever way I can./
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Months
passed by and Erestor and Glorfindel’s love settled into something comforting –
something soothing. Their passion remained unbridled and many times mews of
pleasure could be heard from their rooms.
Ecthelion
and Erestor’s friendship continued to deepen and the three of them became
inseparable. The only times that Erestor didn’t accompany the two Captains was
when they were summoned to counsel the High-King. He preferred to sit with
Idril and Eärendil instead, chatting and enjoying their company.
One
night, Glorfindel entered their rooms carrying a beautifully carved wooden box.
He knelt at Erestor’s feet and gave his beloved a most pleased smile.
Amused,
Erestor returned the smile and ran his long fingers down Glorfindel’s hair.
“Why are you looking so smug, melethen?”
“Do
you know what happened a year ago on this very day?” Glorfindel leaned into the
touch when Erestor’s fingertips caressed his face. He closed his eyes in bliss
and his heart took on a different, slightly slower rhythm so it could beat in
time with his beloved.
Erestor
arched an eyebrow. “Enlighten me; what happened?”
“I
found you beneath that weeping willow and carried you home.” Glorfindel’s eyes
opened and radiated love. “We have been mated for one year.”
“Ah.”
Erestor leaned in closer and tasted Glorfindel’s lips, bestowing a heart-felt
kiss onto them. He hadn’t considered Glorfindel might want to remember and
celebrate that moment.
“I
had this made for you as an expression of my love.” Glorfindel placed the
wooden box on Erestor’s lap.
Erestor
opened it and a beatific smile appeared on his lips. “Hannon le6,
melethron.” The hair clip had been skillfully wrought and depicted a golden
flower, which was the signet of his beloved’s house, and in the heart of the
flower sat a dark stone, raven-black in its reflection.
“May
I slip it into your hair?” Glorfindel offered Erestor his palm, eager to set
the hair clip in the ebony mane.
Erestor
placed the clip onto Glorfindel’s upturned hand and then turned in his chair.
Glorfindel
rose from the floor and slid the hair clip into a thick braid. “Thank you for
wearing my gift, Erestor.”
Erestor
rose from his chair and placed the palms of his hands against his lover’s. “I
am sorry, melethen, I did not get you
a gift.” He would make up for the oversight next year.
“You
do not have to, Erestor. You *are* my gift.”
Eager
lips sealed their love and later that night, growls of lust and fulfillment
echoed from their rooms.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The
second year that they celebrated their love Erestor proudly presented
Glorfindel with his present after making love all night long.
Glorfindel’s
fingertips caressed the locket Erestor’s present to him. It was made of solid
gold and set with the same dark stone he had gifted to Erestor the previous
year.
“Open
it, melethen.” Erestor’s fingertips
trailed down the elegant curve of Glorfindel’s back and stopped possessively on
his lover’s buttocks. He still remembered the first time he had taken his golden-haired
love, making Glorfindel squirm and beg for release.
They
kept those scrolls in the drawers of the nightstand and occasionally they
studied new pieces of parchment, eager to bring into practice what they had
just learned. Tonight had been one of those adventurous nights and Erestor had
tied Glorfindel’s wrists to the posts of their four-poster bed, using the
softest silk ribbons he could find.
One
of those golden-colored ribbons was still attached to Glorfindel’s wrist,
dancing in the air when he moved, as the warrior opened the locket. “Oh,
Erestor…” Inside the locket was a lock of Erestor’s raven hair. “I will always
treasure this! Please, put it on me?” He handed Erestor the locket and lifted
his hair.
Erestor
complied; loving the way it looked against Glorfindel’s skin. He couldn’t help
but wonder what next year would bring.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Next
year featured an energetic Elfling sneaking into their bed. They had put
Eärendil to sleep in a crib next to their bed, and had settled down for the
night, planning on renewing their vows of love when a dark head had popped up
from beneath the sheets. Erestor’s warm laughter boomed through the bedroom,
making little Eärendil chuckle along happily. Glorfindel shook his head,
wondering why they had agreed to baby sitting the Elfling.
/You
agreed because Idril and Tuor needed some privacy./ Dealings with Maeglin had
left Idril tense and Tuor had been on the receiving end of her distrust and
wrath. In the end, Erestor had suggested the royal couple spend some quality
time together to renew their bonds of love. /And that left us with baby sitting
Eärendil./
The
three year old boy was a handful and kept them busy. Still somewhat unsteady on
his tiny feet, a sign of the human blood in his veins, he would run into
tables, chairs, doorposts and would call out for Erestor or Glorfindel to kiss
away the pain. Erestor had always been the boy’s favorite and Glorfindel
enjoyed watching his lover console the little Elfling. But, tonight, he could have
done without Eärendil’s presence in their bed. He had made plans for tonight –
plans which involved him ravaging his lover’s body – but those had been put on
hold.
Eärendil
gave Erestor a warm smile and buried his tiny fingers in the raven hair. “Hold me,”
he whispered, feeling lonely now that his mother wasn’t close. Erestor was the
next best thing and he clung to the dark-haired Elf. He adored Erestor; the
adult always made him feel warm and cherished.
“I
never thought we would ever have an Elfling in our bed,” whispered Glorfindel,
popping himself up on an elbow. “Considering the fact that you are a male, I
did not think we would have children, but it appears the Valar have blessed
us.” He gave his lover a wicked wink.
Eärendil’s
gaze shifted from Erestor to Glorfindel. “I am not your Elfling! I am Nana’s!”
“Of
course you are,” soothed Erestor, giving Glorfindel an amused look. “Would you
have liked to have children, melethen?”
“I
love children, Erestor. They are our brightest blessings.” Glorfindel tickled
Eärendil, who had no choice but to burst out giggling.
“Maybe
then this can be our gift for this year?” Erestor made way for Eärendil and the
still giggling Elfling snuggled close in between them. “We won’t have any
children of our own, melethron, but
we have Eärendil.”
The
Elfling gave Erestor a surprisingly understanding look. “You want to be my Adar
too?”
Erestor
smiled at the boy. “Only when you are staying with Glorfindel and me.”
Glorfindel’s
eyes filled with comprehension. “You will spoil him rotten.”
“But
he is our best gift yet, is he not?” Erestor wrapped one arm around Eärendil
and draped the other across Glorfindel’s waist.
“Aye,
he is,” agreed Glorfindel.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Another
year, filled with bliss and happiness, passed by. That day, they met beneath
the weeping willow to remember their first encounter. They had undressed and
lain down, holding each other close, and then Glorfindel began to sing softly.
He sang of his love for Erestor, of the wonder and respect he felt for his
beloved. And Erestor, resting in the warrior’s strong arms, listened.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Their
fifth anniversary was spent with Idril, Tuor, Eärendil, Ecthelion and Lindir.
Seated comfortably near the fire place, Glorfindel smiled. This was his family
– his loved ones – and Erestor was his heart. “I had this made for you.”
Erestor
accepted the mithril box and pressed a kiss on Glorfindel’s lips.
The
Elfling sat on the floor, playing with the toys his parents had brought to keep
him occupied, but upon seen them kiss, he giggled and called out, “Kissy,
kissy!”
Glorfindel
burst out laughing, as the Elfling had ruined a perfectly romantic moment, yet
again. “Eärendil, behave for a change!”
Idril
laughed and slipped her hand into her husband’s. Although her visions and
dreams had grown much darker of late, only warmth and light surrounded her
right now. She wished it would never end and knew that she would always cherish
her time spent in the glow of their love.
Erestor
removed the lid, looked at the gift, and then lifted loving eyes to Glorfindel.
“It is beautiful.” He lifted a brooch, made of mithril and rubies, from the
black velvet, which it rested upon, and studied it. The brooch had been wrought
in the form of a lyre, and surrounding it, were the long branches of a weeping
willow. Touched, Erestor pinned the brooch onto the burgundy robes he was
wearing. “I also have a gift for you. I would sing for you myself, but Lindir’s
voice is much more compelling.” Nodding at Lindir, Erestor pressed against
Glorfindel and sighed in bliss.
Lindir
picked up his lyre and began to play. His ethereal voice joined the music,
singing of Erestor’s love for Glorfindel.
Eärendil
lost his interest in the toys and walked over to Glorfindel and Erestor’s
instead. Not wanting to interrupt Lindir’s song, he tugged at Glorfindel’s
azure tunic and was promptly lifted onto the warrior’s lap. Stretching, he
rested his head against Glorfindel’s chest, whilst burying his chilly feet in
the folds of Erestor’s robes.
Erestor
and Glorfindel exchanged a look, now that Eärendil rested against them. Aye,
life was good.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Erestor?
I have something for you.” Glorfindel gave Erestor a wicked look and then
dropped a scroll into his lover’s lap.
Erestor
arched an eyebrow and picked it up. “Don’t I know that ribbon?”
“Aye,
you used it to tie me to our bed once, don't you remember?” Glorfindel licked
his lips, making it very clear that he was in for a night full of adventure.
Erestor
removed the ribbon, but his eyes remained on Glorfindel, just knowing his lover
was up to something. “Did you have anything special in mind for our bonding
anniversary?”
“Aye,
something you cannot find in the scrolls that we used to keep in our
nightstand.”
Erestor’s
eyebrow inched higher. They had tried all positions described in those scrolls
and he wondered if Glorfindel had discovered something new – a position they
hadn’t tried yet. “Feeling adventurous tonight, melethen?”
“I
want you tonight…” whispered Glorfindel, sitting down on the bed beside his
lover.
Erestor’s
eyebrow had crept impossibly high. “When did you shed your clothes?” Glorfindel
had worn his robes a moment ago! Unfolding the scroll, his eyes widened.
“Glorfindel, *that* is…”
“Interesting?
Adventurous?” Glorfindel undid one button after another of his lover’s robes.
“Definitely!”
“Glorfindel,
nay!” Erestor shook his head. “I do not have the stamina for it! Neither am I that
lithe.”
“Oh,
but you do and you are, melethron.”
Glorfindel slipped the robes from Erestor’s shoulders, revealing his lover’s
naked torso to himself.
“Glorfindel,
you cannot be serious! You want to do that? Now?” Realizing Glorfindel was
already undressing him, Erestor released a dramatic sigh. He honestly didn’t
believe his back would like this position much, but he would indulge
Glorfindel.
After
all, it *was* their bonding anniversary!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N:
(Just in case anyone wants to know what Glorfindel came up with, hehehe!
http://www.condoms6.com/positions6/hoover_position.html)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Erestor?”
Vairë found her son seated beneath the weeping willow. Erestor was plucking the
strings of his lyre and at peace. /I want him to be happy./ But the bliss
wouldn’t last much longer.
His
eyes widened, finding her standing in front of him. She had taken on the same
appearance as when she had joined him to listen to Lindir’s music. He placed
his lyre aside and jumped to his feet. “Why are you here?” His heart thundered
– deep down he knew why she was here. He just didn’t want to accept the truth.
“Maeglin
has returned, has he not?” She gestured for him to walk with her and they
headed for the rose gardens.
“Aye,
he did.” Maeglin had left unexpectedly and without giving any reason for his
departure, but had returned a few weeks ago. The whole of Gondolin speculated
where he had been.
“You
know where he was.” Vairë plucked a rose and inhaled its sweet scent.
Erestor
nodded once. “The time has come, then?”
“Morgoth
is strong and is positioning his forces. He will attack shortly. You should ensure
the safety of those you care about.”
Erestor
reached for her hand and was pleasantly surprised when she felt warm and solid
under his touch. “How quickly must we move?”
“You
should join Idril and her family tonight, Erestor.”
Tonight
– tonight was their seventh bonding anniversary and Erestor had hoped to
celebrate it by making love to Glorfindel. But his plans were being thwarted.
“Does my father know that you are here – warning me?”
“Of
course he does, Erestor. He knows everything.” Vairë smiled and caressed her
son’s face. “You should treasure these last moments of peace for they won’t
last.”
“I
considered warning Turgon and –“
Vairë
silenced him. “Erestor, you cannot meddle in such a way. You must not interfere
with Eru’s song – only chaos would ensue. What is to come will come. You must
accept that.”
“But
many lives will be lost.” Erestor drew in a deep breath. “I have come to care
about these Elves. I call many my friends, some my family and one my lover. How
can I stand back and watch them die?”
Vairë’s
eyes were alight with understanding. “As one of the Valar you know we cannot
meddle in such a way. We are only permitted to observe.”
“But…”
“If
I could, I would bear this pain for you, Erestor. But you knew this could
happen when you accepted your father’s terms. You knew seven years of happiness
and love. It must be enough.”
Erestor’s
heart missed a beat. “Will I lose Glorfindel?”
Vairë
shook her head. “I cannot tell you.”
“You
won’t tell me!”
“I
already gave you too much insight, Erestor. I already confided to you too much
of what is to come.” Her warm hands captured her son’s and brought them to her
chest. “You are a pawn to Morgoth. In his eyes, your fate – your love – does
not matter. He will attack, even with you present.”
Erestor’s
world was rapidly falling apart. “I will lose them all.” Realization was sudden
and brutal. Glaring at his mother, he asked, “Why do you demand such high
price?”
“In
your heart you know that you cannot place any blame on me, or on your father for
that matter. We live in Eru’s song and follow its melody. Our hands are bound –
like yours.”
/Nay,
that is where you are wrong. I will keep Glorfindel close – and alive./ He
would make certain that his father wouldn’t obtain Glorfindel’s fëa!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Melethen?” Erestor wrapped his arms
around his lover and rested his chin on Glorfindel’s shoulder.
Glorfindel
had just returned from a particularly brutal training session and was letting
the pool fill. Looking over his shoulder, he started, seeing the expression in
his mate’s eyes. “Erestor?” His lover’s hands slipped his shirt down his
shoulders and undid the lacing to his leggings. “What is amiss?”
“Let
me make love to you.” Erestor looked deeply into Glorfindel’s sapphire eyes.
Their time together was limited now that he knew of the impending attack. “Let
me love you – thoroughly.”
Erestor’s
ardor, although unexpected, fueled Glorfindel’s and he nodded most eagerly.
“Have me any way you want, then.”
“Oh,
I will.” Melancholy filled his being as Erestor realized that this would be the
last time they made love in their own rooms – their home.
“Something
troubles you.” Glorfindel read the dark eyes effortlessly. “Did you have a
vision? Idril’s have become frequent and she dreams daily of danger and pain.”
His eyes narrowed, realizing what this could mean. “Mor—“ Erestor placed a
finger across his lips, stopping him from speaking.
“Do
not speak his name when we are about to make love, melethron. Let me attend to you.”
“We
should warn Turgon!”
“Do
you think it will make a difference? His own daughter has warned him time and
time again and yet he dismisses her visions!” Erestor had removed Glorfindel’s
clothing and then slipped out of his own robes. Holding Glorfindel’s hand in
his, he guided his lover into the pool. He pulled the golden-haired Elf beside
him when he sat down and washed the long, tangled mane. “Turgon’s name will not
be remembered kindly,” he whispered in a thoughtful voice. “His pride will be
his downfall.”
“But
what about—“
“We
will go to Tuor tonight. The tunnel has been finished and we will escort them
to ensure their safety.”
“Erestor,
there are others who are dedicated to Idril and wish to help.”
“Then
send them a message and tell them to join us tonight.”
“Tonight?”
Glorfindel couldn’t believe this was really happening. How could one Elf’s
pride condemn so many to death?
“Aye,
we will leave Gondolin tonight.” Erestor rinsed Glorfindel’s hair and imprinted
his lover’s features onto his mind. “I will always love you. Without you, I am
incomplete.”
“You
won’t lose me, meleth.” Glorfindel
leaned in closer to kiss Erestor. “We won’t be separated.”
Erestor
nodded and a serious expression appeared on his fair features. “Neither in
life, nor in death.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That
evening, when they rode through the
“Did
you manage to convince Ecthelion to come with us?” asked Erestor. Ecthelion was
the only Lord they had confided in concerning the upcoming attack and their
friend’s initial reaction had been one of one disbelief and shock.
Glorfindel
shook his head. “He said he would stay and defend the city until his dying
breath. I know him well… he could not possibly desert his House and run.”
“Then
he will die in the upcoming attack.” And Ecthelion would dwell inside his
father’s halls for many ages – a gruesome prospect. “But we have to respect
that.”
Glorfindel’s
fingers clawed at his horse’s mane. “I do not want to lose him! I do not want him to die!”
“We
all make our choices, melethen. We
cannot make a decision for someone else and Ecthelion made his.”
Smiling
faces looked up expectedly at seeing the golden Lord pass, but Glorfindel’s
expression remained stern and serious. He quickly steered his horse away from
the gleeful crowd. “We need to concentrate on escorting Idril and her family
safely out of the city.”
Erestor
looked out over the doomed city and found her beautiful. The winter had passed
and the snow had melted. The valley had burst out into flowers and spoke of new
promises – promises, which would never come alive.
Ithil was high in the sky when the light over the hills in the North
grew red with a new glow. Riders suddenly appeared amidst of the silent crowd.
They called out loudly for the assembled Elves to make way, as they brought bad
tidings for the King and they were trying to reach the King’s Tower.
Panic
started, upsetting the crowd, which now fell apart. Children and women tried to
find shelter and the males returned to their homes to retrieve their armor and
weapons.
“The
guards on the peaks speak of shapes like serpents and more of Morgoth’s foul
creatures! Let us pass! We need to inform the King!” One of the riders wheeled
his horse around and pushed his heels into the animal’s flanks now that the way
had been cleared.
“And
so it begins,” whispered Erestor. His hand sought out Glorfindel’s, and
briefly, their fingers twined. They shared a last kiss and their eyes spoke of
eternal love. Whatever happened that night, their love wouldn’t die with them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Glorfindel
left to join the rest of his House, whilst Erestor made his way to Idril’s
home. From over his shoulder, Erestor watched – bleary eyed – as the streets
filled with many of Gondolin’s greatest warriors, carrying the banners of their
House. Erestor discovered Tuor and the House of the White Wing and their eyes
met. Erestor read concern in them – concern for the inhabitants of Gondolin,
but mostly concern for his wife and son.
He nodded once to Tuor; in his eyes the promise to protect the man's
family.
The
House of the Mole, whose Lord was the traitor, Maeglin, also appeared in the
streets, ready to fight off the enemy. Galdor, Lord of the House of the Tree,
steered his men closer to Glorfindel’s warriors, hoping to fight side by side.
In the distance, Erestor spotted Ecthelion, wearing the spiked helmet that had proven very useful in the past. Many of these Elves
would occupy his father’s Halls in mere hours and that thought caused him great
sorrow.
“You
know you cannot stop this. This is supposed to happen.”
Erestor’s
eyes widened, hearing his father’s voice from so close. Námo stood beside him,
dressed in black robes – an expression of sorrow at the loss the Firstborn
would shortly suffer. His father’s hair had been braided back from his face and
the eyes shone with tears. /Knowing they will die causes him pain as well!/
realized Erestor in that instant and he tried to change his father’s mind one
last time. “Father, it is not too late yet! We can still stop this madness.” He
slipped off the back of his horse and went to stand next to his father, who was
invisible to all eyes except his. “We can still stop this from happening!”
“Nay,
my son. We are not allowed to meddle.” Námo rested a hand on Erestor’s
shoulder. “Remember, the moment you use your powers, you will be send back to
the Halls, so make your decisions wisely, Erestor.”
The
next moment, his father’s form grew dim and then Námo had gone, leaving him
alone. /I will keep him safe,/ vowed Erestor. /I will keep Glorfindel safe!/
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Oh
no!” Glorfindel’s heart missed several beats, finding dragons of fire and
serpents of bronze coming toward the city. The monsters shot arrows and Gothmog
took charge, taking down the Northern Gate, which crumpled beneath the
onslaught.
Catapults
and engines of war tried to take down the host of Morgoth, but the warriors
were outnumbered. The Gate fell and a great army of Orcs invaded the city. The
Gondolindhrim fought hard and brave, but the number of Orcs was too large and
the Elves were forced to retreat.
Erestor
drew his sword and joined the Firstborn in fighting off their enemies, but his
eyes kept scanning the streets, making certain he always knew the location of
his loved ones.
In
the distance, he saw Tuor struggling to reach his house to be reunited with
Idril, no matter for how short a time. “Tuor, be careful,” whispered Erestor,
spying Maeglin nearby. Hopefully, Tuor had also realized the danger. With odd
detachment, Erestor watched the horrid scene unfold.
“I
want you to see your son burn!” Maeglin, consumed by his forbidden love for
Idril, tried to shove Eärendil toward the battlements, so he could push the
child into the flames. But mother and son didn’t go willingly and fought him
every inch of the way. Eärendil set his teeth into Maeglin’s hand, making the
traitor cry out in annoyance. But it only furthered the Elf-Lord’s rage and he
made to throw Eärendil over the wall and into the fires below.
Oh,
if only he were closer! Erestor tried to clear his path, but more Orcs appeared
in the streets, keeping him from reaching Idril and her son.
Determined
to defend and protect his family, the Man caught Eärendil before the toss was
completed. Now that his son was safe, Tuor placed him in Idril’s arms and then
attacked Maeglin. The traitor cried out when Tuor broke his hand. A stunned
expression appeared on Maeglin’s face, finding the enraged Man this close, and
before he could devise an attack of his own, Tuor had grabbed hold of him and
flung him off the wall and into the fire below.
The
fire consumed Maeglin, fast and brutal, much like his forbidden love for Idril
had consumed him.
Námo
gathered the fëa close to him and took Maeglin’s soul to the Halls. A moment
later, he re-appeared in Gondolin to collect the next soul.
Idril
and Eärendil were safe now and Tuor told them to head for the tunnel that would
hopefully take them into safety.
Erestor
breathed a sigh of relief and continued to fight his way closer to Idril and
her son. The city was lost, but still Turgon refused to see that. Erestor
couldn’t save the lives of these Elves, but he could look after the innocent
ones trying to flee.
Balrogs
appeared, but the valiant warriors stood their ground, taken down many of the
foul creatures. Morgoth's forces now possessed the North Gate and great parts
of the walls on either side.
Erestor
had finally reached Idril and looked out of the window, finding Ecthelion and
his men were pressing forward once more, seeking out the enemy. Tuor, who had
left his wife in safe keeping, now returned to the fight, supporting Ecthelion
in his attack.
The
Balrogs prepared their next attack and then assailed Ecthelion and Tuor. The
two warriors took down several Balrogs; Tuor’s axe
brought down six of the foul creatures whilst Ecthelion took out four.
Erestor’s
heart momentarily stopped beating, seeing that Ecthelion had gone down in
battle and that Tuor was trying to get him into safety, carrying the Elf-Lord.
But then the heroic Man stumbled, taking down Ecthelion with him. Galdor
appeared at their side, fighting off the enemy and saving their lives.
“Thank
you,” whispered Erestor, grateful that Galdor had been in the right place at
the right time.
In
the Square of the Well the Elven warriors gathered, and under Tuor’s command
they moved to the Square of the King, which was easier to defend. “Glorfindel!”
Erestor’s fingers curled tightly around the hilt of his sword, seeing his
beloved lead his men into battle. Together, Ecthelion, Glorfindel and Tuor
cleared the Square of the King’s Palace and Egalmoth joined them with the small
group of warriors who had survived that brutal attack.
“Be
careful, Glorfindel. Please be careful!” Erestor should be going after Idril,
who was gathering the weeping women and frightened children seeking to leave
the broken city, but his eyes remained trained on his friends. Could they
withstand another attack?
Seven
fire-dragons, accompanied by Orcs and Balrogs attacked from the North, East and
West, targeting the remaining Elves left in the Square of the King. The Elven
warriors fought bravely and took down many of their enemies, but Erestor
continued to worry about Ecthelion. His injured friend lay by the fountain
because of his wound and was utterly defenseless.
Tuor
was separated from the rest and now faced Gothmog. The Man, already worn down,
was no match for the mighty Balrog and was losing the fight. Erestor’s eyes
filled with tears, seeing Ecthelion push himself upright and charge the
monster. Limited to the use of only one hand, the injured Ecthelion failed to end
the creature’s life, and enraged, Gothmog raised his whip to take down his
enemies.
“No!”
Erestor wanted to use his powers and to smite down that Balrog to save his
friends’ lives, but he knew that if he did so, he wouldn’t be able to look
after Idril! And Glorfindel was also still alive! He couldn’t meddle. “Father,
why?” Why had his father forbidden him to use his powers? Tears streamed from
his eyes, as he was forced to watch Ecthelion charge forward once more.
Ecthelion drove his spiked helmet into the Balrog’s chest. Gothmog roared, and
took Ecthelion down with him, as they both fell into the King’s Fountain.
“No!”
Tears dripped from his face and Erestor had never felt such pain -- such grief
– before, knowing Ecthelion’s heavy armor would cause his friend’s death. “No!”
Glorfindel
had witnessed Ecthelion’s death as well, and a great pain overcame him.
Realizing they were fighting a lost battle, he told the remaining warriors to
flee the city. Women and children were running down the streets, heading for
Idril’s home. And then Glorfindel remembered the tunnel and his promise to see
Idril and Eärendil into safety. Tuor, also shocked by Ecthelion’s death, stood
paralyzed. Glorfindel grabbed hold of him and dragged him along. “The city is
lost! We must see to your family.”
Behind
him, Turgon appeared. The King had finally decided to take part in the lost
fight and when Glorfindel looked into Turgon’s eyes, he read defeat there. The
High-King knew he couldn’t win.
Glorfindel
turned his back on Turgon and dragged Tuor with him. Erestor was there to greet
them, and his dark-haired lover flung himself into his arms for a quick hug.
They shared a rushed kiss and whispered words of grief over Ecthelion’s death.
Erestor
and Glorfindel supported Tuor, who was stumbling down the stairs. Idril,
carrying Eärendil, awaited them at the foot of the stairs and there, the family
was reunited.
Glorfindel
stared at the small group of females, children and injured warriors who had
made it into the tunnels. His eyes shed tears, mourning the loss of so many.
“We
must leave!” Erestor took charge now that Tuor and Glorfindel seemed too weary
to do so and led the survivors through the tunnel – hopefully toward safety.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Idril
supported her husband and steadied him whenever his steps faltered. Glorfindel,
who had fallen back to ensure all refugees had entered the tunnel, soon managed
to catch up to his beloved, who was at the head of the group. Glorfindel
gathered Erestor’s hand in his and their eyes met – azure and chocolate brown –
both pairs filled with a deep sense of sorrow and grief. “We lost Ecthelion,”
whispered Glorfindel, feeling strangely calm and numb.
Erestor
rubbed his beloved’s hand in an effort to soothe him. “Ecthelion’s fëa is in
the Halls of Waiting where the dark forces can no longer hurt him.” /Please
father,/ he prayed. /Comfort Ecthelion, for he is a dear friend./
“He
died a warrior’s death,” whispered Glorfindel, whose shock was finally
beginning to surface now that they were safe. “So many warriors died… Why did
Ecthelion have to fall as well?”
“He
sacrificed his life to save Tuor’s.” Erestor cradled Glorfindel’s hand close to
his chest and pressed a kiss on the blood-covered limb. “Always remember why he
died and the next time you look at Tuor, Idril and Eärendil you will take
comfort in seeing them alive. Ecthelion’s sacrifice was not in vain.”
Glorfindel’s
eyes released bitter tears, mourning his best friend’s death.
Erestor
respected his lover’s silence, but did pull him close so he could wrap an arm
around Glorfindel’s frame. /Please, father… Grant Ecthelion peace./
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Come
with me, my child.” Námo gathered Ecthelion’s fëa close to him. Horrible
memories of his death consumed Ecthelion and his soul cried out in need. “Hush
now and trust me.” Námo folded an arm around the trembling warrior and the soul
took on shape beneath his touch. Ecthelion’s body was created as an illusion
and Námo soothed the trouble soul.
Shocked
eyes met his and Námo smiled, reassuringly. “You are safe now.”
“But…”
Ecthelion startled at hearing his voice. “But I died!” He stared at the
dark-haired Elf holding him and wondered about him. “Who are you?”
”I am Námo, my child. I am here to take you to the safety of my Halls until the
moment of your rebirth comes.”
The
tremors shaking Ecthelion’s body worsened. “You are Námo?” Oh, he knew he was
dead, but he hadn’t thought Námo would come to collect his soul personally!
Slowly, he grew aware of the soothing light and warmth around him. “That is
odd.” The last thing he remembered was a scorching heat and then unbearable
cold, when he had hit the water.
“You
will be reunited with your loved ones and family in my Halls, my child.” Námo
carefully carried Ecthelion’s broken soul with him and continued to radiate
warmth during their journey to the Halls of Waiting.
“I
did not think death would be like this.” It almost felt like he was still
alive!
“I
will take good care of you – and all the other fëar,” vowed Námo. When he had
been called upon to become the Doomsman of the Valar, he had been chosen for a
reason – his compassionate nature.
“What
of my friends?” Ecthelion relaxed in Námo’s arms and began to feel sleepy.
Námo
had woven a spell to ensure that Ecthelion relaxed, and when he delivered the
warrior’s soul to the Halls, the other fallen Lords of Gondolin took him from
the Vala. “See to his needs,” commanded Námo. A moment later, he was gone from
the Halls again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Tuor,
take the lead!” Tuor had regained most of his strength and Erestor deemed the
time had come to hand over command. One by one, the survivors emerged from the
tunnel, and once Tuor had gathered the refugees, the Man took charge.
Looking
over his shoulder, Tuor frowned, finding Erestor and Glorfindel were falling
behind. Then, he realized they were doing it on purpose. They wanted to fight
off any attackers, should Morgoth have realized their escape.
Beside
him, Idril pressed closer and his son’s arms wrapped around his neck. He took
Eärendil from Idril’s arms and carried his son. His wife’s hand slipped into
his and Tuor had never felt more grateful before. His wife had survived and so
had his son! “You fought bravely,” whispered Tuor, seeing Eärendil’s serious
eyes – too serious for a seven-year old Elfling.
“He
wanted to hurt us,” mumbled Eärendil, clinging to his father.
“Your
mother and I are proud of you.” Tuor hugged his son, recalling just how close
he had come to losing him to the fire.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Glorfindel?”
Erestor came to a halt and his beloved stopped walking to look him in the eyes.
“I want you to know that I love you and that I will always love you. If I lose
you to death, I will follow.”
“Do
not say such a thing!” chided Glorfindel, slipping his arms behind Erestor’s
back so he could bring him in for a hug. “If I die I want you to live for the
two of us!”
Erestor
rested his head against his lover’s shoulder and held him tight. A sense of
foreboding moved through him, making him look up at the glowing sky. In the
distance, Gondolin burned and dark clouds drifted away from the city and toward
them. His eyes narrowed, finally recognizing the form hidden in that cloud. “A
Balrog!”
Glorfindel
acted at once and called out to Tuor. “Run! Run and leave the enemy to me!”
Tuor,
having sighted the threat as well, sped up his pace and the refugees ran after
him, away from the Balrog.
“Erestor,
go with them!” Glorfindel pushed his lover away from him.
“Nay,
I will stay!”
Then
Eärendil called out. “Erestor!” The child, although still young, realized the
danger Erestor was placing himself in and his big eyes locked with Erestor’s.
“Come with us!”
“Go!”
Glorfindel shoved Erestor away from him. “Go! I will deal with this one and
then join you again!” He then turned away from his beloved and ran toward the
Balrog, who was preparing his first attack.
Paralyzed,
Erestor watched the tragedy unfold. Glorfindel fought valiantly, but his prior
battles had exhausted him and it wasn’t long before the Balrog realized the
same thing. Carrying out a more coordinated attack, the Balrog got close enough
to Glorfindel to deal several mean blows.
The
only thing Glorfindel could think of was making certain the monster couldn’t
hunt down Idril, Tuor, Eärendil, and most importantly, Erestor. In a
death-defying leap, he jumped onto the Balrog and hewed off one of the
creature’s arms. Enraged, the Balrog reached for Glorfindel and his claws
tangled in the golden hair. Mortally wounded, the Balrog stumbled and fell
backward, dragging Glorfindel with him into the abyss of Christhorn.
“NO!”
Waking from his entranced state, Erestor broke out into a run. “No!” The
Balrog’s burning form left a trail of smoke, which disappeared in the deep
crevice. Erestor fell to his knees, sobbing hard. “No!” No, Glorfindel hadn’t
died! He couldn’t have lost his beloved! That wasn’t possible! Glorfindel would
never leave him!
Tuor
and the refugees were too far away to see what had happened, but when Erestor’s
cry came, they realized the truth. “We lost Glorfindel,” whispered Tuor,
shaken.
Idril’s
eyes finally released the tears she had been fighting since the beginning of
the attack. “If we lost Glorfindel, than we will lose Erestor as well.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Erestor’s
eyes dried, as he had no more tears to shed. He had just lost the love of his
life – his very reason to be alive – and his being filled with hate and a need
for vengeance. Erestor, the Elf could do little, but Erestor, the Vala, wasn’t
that helpless.
Filled
with bitterness and hatred, he pushed himself onto his feet again and a dark
light shone from his brown eyes. “Bring him to me.” The Vala reached out to the
King of the Eagles and commanded Thorondor to retrieve Glorfindel’s body.
The
mighty eagle dove into the abyss and using his claws and beak, he loosened the
dead Balrog’s hold on Glorfindel’s hair. Rising majestically from the abyss, he
placed Glorfindel’s corpse in front of Erestor. After sending the Vala thoughts
of sympathy, he left to let Erestor mourn in private.
Erestor
already felt his father call out to him, as he had broken the rules by using his
powers to retrieve his beloved’s body. But he fought the call and sat down on
the grass, cradling Glorfindel’s corpse against his chest. His fingers moved
through his lover’s singed hair and he pressed his lips against the charred
flesh. Kissing Glorfindel’s brow, he closed his eyes. /We will be reunited
shortly, melethron. I already feel my father’s call. We will meet
again in his Halls./ Rocking Glorfindel’s body in his arms, he prepared to
follow his father’s call, but then, he sensed pain – pain and a mute plea for
help.
“Lindir…
Oh, Lindir! I forgot about you!” Erestor realized his mistake too late. He had
tried to take care of everyone, but somehow he had forgotten to ensure Lindir’s
safety as well. “Glorfindel – melethen --
forgive me for leaving you, but Lindir needs me.” Erestor gently placed
Glorfindel’s corpse back on the grass. He kissed his lover’s cold and
unresponsive lips one last time and then his shape slowly vanished until only
Glorfindel’s corpse remained.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Later,
once Tuor felt it was safe to return, he and Egalmoth returned to the site of
the attack. Tuor’s heart bled, finding only Glorfindel’s corpse. There was no
trace of Erestor. “Do you think he…?” Unable to speak the dooming words, Tuor
pointed at the abyss.
Egalmoth
shook his head. “Erestor would never take his life.”
“Not
even after finding his beloved dead?” Tuor closed Glorfindel’s azure eyes,
which looked broken in death and used his cloak to cover the warrior’s body.
“He died defending us. May Námo remember that when this noble soul arrives in
his Halls.”
“We
cannot leave Glorfindel like this,” said Egalmoth. “If we do, the animals will
feed on him.”
Tuor
nodded, and the two warriors worked in silence, raising a stone-cairn over
Glorfindel’s corpse in the heights of Christhorn. Their hearts were heavy and
burdened with concern for Erestor, who had vanished without a trace. As they
turned to join the rest of the refugees, yellow flowers sprouted from the
earth, forever marking Glorfindel’s last resting place.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It
took three Orcs to beat him into submission. In the end, Lindir ceased his
resistance, realizing they were stronger and in control. The foul creatures had
found him in the gardens. As he had been playing the flute, he had used the
instrument to fight them off, but he wasn’t a warrior and the Orcs had quickly
‘disarmed’ him.
They
wrestled him down and forced him to watch as they beat, raped and eventually
killed his friends – fellow minstrels, who had joined him in the gardens to
compose songs and poetry.
His
heart went cold, and for one moment, he hoped it would stop beating, but then
the familiar rhythm started again, condemning him to the same fate his friends
had suffered. He watched the Orcs rape and murder his fellow minstrels with
detachment, as a part of him wasn’t been able to believe that this was really
happening.
Lindir
suddenly felt the first greedy hands upon him, ripping the green silk tunic to
shreds. Sharp fingernails dragged down his chest, dipping beneath the skin and
drawing blood. Next, his leggings were torn from his body and one of the vile
creatures pushed a knee between his legs, forcing them apart.
Lindir,
who had felt numb and detached due to the state of shock he was in, was
suddenly jolted back into reality when one of the Orcs placed his repulsive
body atop of him. The Orc was erect and the hard flesh was already seeking a
way inside. Lindir’s spirit broke, and the minstrel cried out in pain and
shame.
“I
won’t allow it!”
Lindir
registered a voice, but didn’t recognize it. He had gone into a state of shock
– his mind trying to lock out what was happening in an attempt to keep himself
sane.
Erestor
used his powers to dispose of the Orcs, whose bodies turned to small heaps of
ash at his feet. Maintaining his Elven form, Erestor knelt at his friend’s
side. This time, he shed no tears, as vengeance and hatred had taken over. He
undid his cloak and covered Lindir’s trembling naked form with it. “I have got
you now.”
A
new group of Orcs, who hadn’t seen Erestor take out their comrades, charged.
Erestor threw a single glare at them, setting fire to their bodies.
Now
that the threat was gone, pity, love and compassion pushed away the hatred and
Erestor rocked Lindir in this arms. In the minstrel’s blurry, blue eyes he saw
how much damage had been done – but thankfully not enough damage to send Lindir
to his father’s Halls. “I will take you away from this fighting – from this
death.” Looking about, he saw the large number of fallen Elves, and his heart
wept, seeing what the Orcs had done to them before ending their lives. “Their
fate won’t be yours.”
His
father’s call to return to the Halls had grown much stronger and Erestor knew
he couldn’t resist much longer -- but first he *had* to ensure Lindir’s
survival.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On
the Isle of Balar, Círdan was startled when a bright, silver light appeared
close to him. He had thought himself safe and hadn’t brought any arms with him
when he had sat down to watch the sunset. He jumped to his feet and was ready
to defend himself in whatever way possible.
“Take
good care of this one, Shipwright. I place his life – and his recovery - in
your hands.”
Círdan
stared in wonder at the body taking shape at his feet. The white-haired Elf’s
face was black and blue, and from beneath the cloak many injuries showed. “Who
are you?” Círdan whispered, addressing the silver light, which was already
dimming.
“Círdan,
it matters little who I am. What matters is that Lindir needs someone to take
care of him. He is a kind and gentle soul and in need of your help. Do not deny
me – do not deny him.” After uttering those words, Erestor found he couldn’t
fight his father’s call any longer and traveled to the Halls of Waiting, where
Glorfindel and he would be united again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lindir
didn’t understand what was happening to him. One moment ago an Orc had tried
raping him and the next, he found himself lying on soft and warm sand. Waves
gently crashed against the shore, luring him into a relaxed state.
Had
he really heard Erestor’s voice or had he only imagined it? Curling up beneath
the warm cloak, he brought his knees close to his chest, wrapped his arms
around his waist, and hid his face behind his white mane.
“I
will look after you.”
The
voice that addressed him was tender and curious, and definitely not Erestor’s.
Lindir, still feeling intimated, peeked at the Elf kneeling at his side. He had
never seen a bearded Elf before and raised a shaky hand to explore the odd
facial hair. But then the horrid memories returned to him, showing him Orcs
raping and killing his friends. Overcome by pain and fear, Lindir fainted.
Círdan
gathered the frightened and hurt Elf in his arms and carefully lifted him. He
would take Lindir to his house, call for the healers, and look after him
personally. He didn’t know why this Elf had been entrusted to him, but he vowed
that this injured Elf would recover.
End of part 2
1 melethen (sing.) -- my love (Sindarin,
noun)
2 melethron (sing.) -- (masc.) lover
(Sindarin, noun)
3 Peredhil (pl.) -- half-elven (Sindarin, noun)
4 Peredhel
(sing.) -- half-elven (Sindarin, noun)
5 fëa (sing.), fëar (pl.) -- spirit (Quenyan,
noun)
6 Hannon le --
Thank you (Sindarin, verb, pronoun) literal: I thank thee
From
the Council of Elrond Quenyan and Sindarin dictionary