The Strong Heart

Chapter 13

Gurvelon’s desk and chair, contaminated with the deadly poison, burned in the courtyard. Nestoron had added the deadly vial and the gloves to the fire.

The Lothlorien elves removed Thalahir’s body to a room in the healing house, where several members of the Lothlorien Guard would stand vigil until sunset of the next day, when his body would be placed on the pyre.

Turidon sat in a chair in Elrond’s office, still shaking, tears running down his face. His friend, little Melpomaen, stood beside him, a gentle hand on his shoulder. Melpomaen wished he knew how to comfort the warrior.

Elrond knelt in front of Turidon and took his hands. “Turidon, my old friend, look at me.” The warrior lifted his eyes to Elrond. “You did what had to be done, my friend. You did what I would have done. We protect this valley from evil. Any evil, whatever its source. There was no other way. You did well.”

Turidon nodded. “Thank you my Lord. I…I know. But he was an elf. We could have helped him!”

“Aye, and we would have, had he let us. Turidon, there was no other choice. Do not judge yourself wrong for this, for no one, not Manwe himself, will. You saved the life of a small elfling. Trust me in this. Come now, you must rest. You have guarded us well.”

“I will help him, my Lord,” Melpomaen said softly. “He will stay with me tonight.” Turidon looked up at his little friend. Mel smiled at him gently and nodded. “Come on, old warrior. I will take care of you.” He pulled Turidon by the hand and led him out of the room.

Erestor and Glorfindel were waiting outside of Elrond’s office. Glorfindel embraced his old friend, and said quietly, “Thank you. Thank you for saving Saercaeron. There was nothing any of the rest of us could do. If you hadn’t been there, we would have lost him.”

“I am so sorry it ended that way, Glorfindel. I didn’t want to have to do that,” Turidon answered.

“I know, my friend. None of us did. Go and rest now. You have done well.” Glorfindel and Erestor went into Elrond’s office.

“You see, Tur? No one thinks you were in the wrong.” Wrapping his arm around the warrior, they walked to his room.

“You are a good friend, Mel, even if you are young.”

Mel chuckled. “So are you, Tur, even if you are older than Elrond.”

Reaching his rooms, Mel led Turidon inside. At his last promotion, Melpomaen had been given a larger room that included his own bath. His bedroom was so large, he had made a sitting area with chairs surrounding the large fireplace, a small sofa, and table and chairs he could use for working or dining. He had even gotten a larger bed, as the room seemed to swallow his old smaller one. The warrior slumped into a chair at the table.

“Aiya, Mel, I feel so bad,” Turidon said sadly.

“I know, dear friend. I would give anything to be able to make you feel better.” Melpomaen poured two glasses of wine and brought them to the table. He handed one to Turidon, and sat opposite his friend, watching him sip at his wine. Tur was so old, but he looked younger than Elrond. His dark brown hair hung lose around his beautiful face instead of being tied back, which was how he usually wore it. The gray eyes, which usually sparkled with merriment, were sad. Tears formed in Mel’s eyes as he watched his friend. He didn’t know what to do to make Turidon feel better, but he knew what he wanted. What he had always wanted, from the time he was still years away from his majority so many centuries ago. It was time.

“Tur, come sit with me by the fire. Please?” Taking his glass of wine, he walked to the fireplace, and sat down on the heavy fur rugs laid in front of it. When Turidon sat down beside him, he took their glasses of wine and set them aside. Then he crawled onto the warrior’s lap and wrapped his arms around Turidon’s neck, resting his head on the broad shoulder.

Turidon wrapped an arm around his friend and stroked the little elf’s soft hair. “Mel, what’s wrong,” he asked softly. The head on his shoulder just settled closer. “Mel?”

Melpomaen lifted his head, his soft blue eyes meeting sad gray ones. He placed a soft kiss on the warrior’s brow, looked again into the gray eyes, then lowered his head and kissed the warrior’s soft lips tenderly.

Turidon gasped, feeling the lips he had always wanted to kiss on his. Mel ended the tender kiss and, heart pounding in fear Tur would be angry with him, laid his head back on the shoulder, nuzzling closer into the warrior’s neck.

“Mel? Why did you kiss me?” Turidon’s whispering voice was shaky.

Mel swallowed hard. It was now or never. “I love you Tur, I always have. Ever since I was a little elfling,” he whispered.

“But I am so old, and you are not even one thousand years old. I am too old, too hardened for you, little one.”

“What is old to an elf, Tur? I remember the first time I knew I loved you. I was watching you return from a patrol, astride a great horse. You were laughing with the others. Then you jumped down off the horse and saw me. You picked me up and twirled me around, laughing. I was maybe forty years old then. I knew. I am nearly nine hundred now and I have never loved another. I never will. I was born for you alone. I have been waiting for you to love me back”

Melpomean couldn’t see the tears streaming down Turidon’s face. Finally one fell, and he felt it hit his cheek. He raised his head and kissed the tears from the warrior’s face. “Won’t you love me, Tur?” he whispered.

Turidon stifled a sob. Never had he guessed this sweet little elf loved him. He was lost. Lost in the love of his dear little friend. And his heart that he locked tight against his unrequited love burst open. Holding Melpomaen tighter, he sobbed out, “You love me?”

“Forever, if you will have me, my love.”

Turidon captured Melpomaen’s mouth in a searing kiss. It was not a tender kiss, but it was loving all the same. Tongues reached for each other and danced wildly, hands grasped and pulled, and moans filled the room. It was Mel’s first lovers kiss, and it was perfect.

Clothes were ripped and thrown aside as the two fought to feel the other’s flesh against their own. Necks and ears and lips were ravaged. Breathless words of love were whispered. Turidon devoured every inch of Melpomaen’s body with kisses and licks, stopping to suckle here and there. He couldn’t taste enough of his beautiful love.

Melpomaen arched and screamed as his engorged cock was swallowed to the hilt. Never had he dreamed he could feel like this. His fingers curled in Turidon’s hair as he thrust into the wet heat. “Oh, Tur…Oh…I..love you..Oh..what are you doing to me…Oh!”
Hands stroked his sides and a pointed tongue teased his slit before Tur took him fully into his mouth again. Fingers gently cupped and stroked his sacs. Mel arched and wailed his pleasure as he came explosively in his lover’s mouth. Gentle hands held him as he lay panting.

Turidon straddled his perfect little love, and kissed him passionately. Tears once again filled his eyes as he cupped his hands around the beautiful face looking up at him with so much love. “I love you, my darling Mel. I will love you forever.”

Tbc…