The Flower and The Fountain

A Moment of Peace
Summary: After a hectic day, Glorfindel and Ecthelion take turns smoothing out frazzled wits and tense muscles.

“That is all that can be done for today,” Alphir, head advisor to Ecthelion, said as he shuffled papers and scrolls to be put away. The other advisors of the House of the Fountain nodded in agreement as they adjourned their meeting for the day. Ecthelion had long left the political gathering that had been arranged to discuss events of his house; he had spent most of the last few days busy and without rest. The Lord had willingly left at his advisors’ insistence and hadn’t been seen since. “All that is left,” Alphir concluded, “is for Lord Ecthelion to read this letter from Lady Arien.”

“I can take it to him, Ada.”

At the statement, Alphir turned and eyed his son, Calendir, who sat in a dark corner of the council room. He understood perfectly why his son insisted on attending the meetings that took place, but he knew that what Calendir was attempting was folly.

“Nay, Calendir. ‘Tis late and our Lord is resting. It is a personal matter and can await his attention.”

“It is early evening, Ada,” Calendir insisted as he rose from his seat. He ignored the whispers and glances of the other advisors, who knew the same as Alphir. “If it is a letter from Lady Arien, then Lord Ecthelion will wish to read it immediately. She is his kinsman.”

Alphir sighed; it was no use trying to convince his son otherwise. The boy would just have to learn the truth the hard way. “Very well,” the advisor said, handing the sealed scroll to his son. “You may find Lord Ecthelion in the House of the Golden Flower.”

“Lord Glorfindel’s house?” The news surprised the young elfling; what would his Lord be doing at the House of the Golden Flower?

“Aye. Do you know the way?”

“Yes, Ada. I shall not be long.” And with that, Calendir left the room. Alphir sighed and sank into a chair.

“Do you think letting him go was wise, Alphir?” one of the other advisors asked. “He would learn what few in Gondolin know.”

“Let him learn. Perhaps what he sees will help him to forget this ridiculous pursuit of his. He should learn on his own that he is chasing the wrong Elf; an Elf who has long been spoken for.” The other advisors nodded and went about their work before each bid the other good night and retired to their homes.

~~~~~~~~~~

As he briskly covered the distance separating the House of the Fountain from the House of the Golden Flower, Calendir found himself humming a nameless tune. He felt rather delighted, for he was sure the message he carried to his Lord would be deemed important by Ecthelion. Calendir loved to serve his Lord for various reasons, though one in particular stood out from all the rest. Imagining the grateful look Ecthelion would surely bestow upon him, Calendir sped up his pace and hastened his steps.

Calendir was a precarious youth, at best. He was prideful, as most of the Noldor were, but he had a tendency to gloat. Alphir’s son was one of the younger members of the House of the Fountain, eager to serve and please. Calendir often asked to be present at political gatherings his father attended, often taking a seat in a dark corner and remaining silent. Political life did not suit Calendir, however. He was more suited for a warrior’s lifestyle, and would have made a better guard than advisor. Yet he kept returning to the meetings for one soul reason: his infatuation with his Lord.

Alphir was not a blind father, knowing perfectly well the intentions behind his son’s unusual requests. Ecthelion was a captain of Gondolin, an Elf born in Valinor; he was valiant, resourceful as well as compassionate. Most of the younger Elves had been fascinated by their Lord, but the feeling never went past awe and amazement before turning into respect. Calendir was different as he came to believe something else. Ecthelion’s presence, in Calendir’s eyes, seemed to beckon the youth, when indeed it did not. For in the elfling’s mind, he had fallen in love with the Lord and thought the feelings to be returned.

Had Calendir listened to the gossip of the women and warrior apprentices, he might have thought differently about his feelings. Though it was quite possible that his unhealthy infatuation, as Alphir referred to it, would have brushed aside the notion that Ecthelion might already have a lover. Calendir’s imagination was always working, dreaming up ways to find his Lord alone and announce his feelings; he had, more than once, been caught tailing Ecthelion around Gondolin with unpleasant consequences.

He had arrived at the House of the Golden Flower without realizing it, and Calendir suddenly found himself staring in awe at the archway. The white marble doorway supported tendrils of arcing gold; flowers and golden leaves adorned the arch structure in twining patterns. The doors were thrown wide open, affording any visitor with a view of the long corridor of the main hall. Various members of the house were busy going about their business before the evening meal approached. One, a young maid, noticed Calendir’s open-jawed stare and stepped towards him.

“May I be of service, young sir?” she said kindly with a bright smile.

Calendir swallowed thickly in nervousness as he bowed; he had never been to the House of the Golden Flower before. “I am Calendir, of the House of the Fountain,” he said introducing himself. “I bring a message for my Lord Ecthelion. I was told I would find him here this evening.”

“You were not mistaken, Calendir; Lord Ecthelion is indeed here. My name is Nimriel. I shall deliver the message to him, if you like.”

Calendir shook his head and clutched the scroll tighter as she held out her hand to receive it. This was his duty to perform. “Nay, lady Nimriel. I would like to deliver the message myself.”

Nimriel sighed deeply. It seemed to her that this youth was unaware of the rumors, of which the members of the Golden Flower knew to be true, one of the few who knew the trtuh. No one of the Golden Flower could deny the truth behind the rumors when they saw Ecthelion come and go each evening and morning with their own eyes. She was reluctant to lead Calendir to meet his Lord. After all, what would her own Lord say to her? She was about to turn the elfling away when Linaewen rounded a corner and spotted them.

“Is anything the matter, Nimriel?” the advisor asked, stepping up to the pair and eyeing Calendir. The youth seemed to shrink under his gaze as the maid spoke again.

“Nay, lord Linaewen. All is well. There is a message for Lord Ecthelion, yet the messenger insists to deliver it himself.”

Linaewen studied Calendir closely for the next few moments. He had just received a brief note from Alphir, telling of Calendir’s arrival and purpose, and why the father had sent the son. Linaewen had readily agreed with his fellow advisor, though he wondered if it was all really necessary. With a sigh, he turned to Nimriel. “Show him the way, Nimriel. Allow him to deliver the message himself if that is what he chooses.”

“Yes, my lord. Is Lord Ecthelion in the council room?”

“Nay, he is in Lord Glorfindel’s personal chambers. They should both be there.” Linaewen purposefully ignored Calendir’s shock at hearing such a thing. The elfling would certainly learn something before the evening was out.

“Yes, my lord. Come this way please.” With a rustle of skirts and a slight toss of raven hair, Nimriel escorted Calendir down the main corridor before turning left and ascending a flight of stairs.

Calendir’s nervousness was increasing with each step he took. The people of the Golden Flower seemed more regal than the otherses.ses. Was it because their Lord was half-Vanya? The youth had never come face to face to Glorfindel; Calendir had always been at a distance when he caught a glimpse of the Flower Lord. It was said that, along with Ecthelion, Glorfindel was one of Turgon’s most trusted and able captains. Truth be told, Calendir was rather intimidated by the Lord Glorfindel. And now here he was walking to that very same person’s private chambers.

“Here we are,” Nimriel announced, stopping atelabelaborately carved door that bore the image of a flower in a field beneath both the sun and the moon. “Lord Ecthelion will be inside. Just give a little knock and you will be heard. Now, please excuse me, but I have duties to attend to. I trust you shall not become lost finding your way out?” When Calendir had nodded, Nimriel gave him a small smile before heading down the corridor in the direction they had come.

The elfling felt himself trembling as he stood before the door. Calendir felt frightened beyond belief and was at a loss for what to do. Taking a deep breath, he steadied his nerves and raised his hand to knock when a noise from the other side made him stop. He listened, straining his ears to hear another sound. And there it was, a moan just a little louder than before. Then a voice spoke in a murmur just clear enough for the youth to hear.

“By Elbereth, Ecthelion. That feels so good.”

Ecthelion? Was that Lord Glorfindel speaking? And what did he mean? The rumors Calendir had heard around the city were beginning to catch up with him; he shouldn’t have come here! Trying to retreat, he made to leave the door when his foot caught. To keep from tripping, he braced himself against the wall, creating a dull thump.

“Glorfindel, there’s someone at your door,” Ecthelion’s voice filtered through the walls.

“Kindly see who it is, please?” There was a rustle of sheets and cloths, followed by soft footsteps sounding louder as they came towards the door. Slowly it was drawn open; Calendir froze in place when he saw his Lord observing him, dressed in one of Glorfindel’s sleeping robes in a deep green color. The blond Lord could not be seen, and for that the elfling was rather thankful.

“Calendir?” Ecthelion asked, eyeing the youth. “What brings you to the Golden Flower? Is anything the matter?”

“N-nay, my Lord,” Calendir stuttered. He worked to speak his next words clearly as slightly trembling hands held out Arien’s letter. “This letter arrived for you today. ‘Tis from the Lady Arien. My father felt it could wait till the morning, but I thought you would have liked to read it.”

“Thank you kindly, but your father was right I believe. It does not seem important enough to have bothered yourself with.”

“Forgive me, my Lord.”

“’Tis nothing to forgive.”

“Ecthelion?”

Calendir’s eyes widened as he received his first good look of the Lord Glorfindel, who approached the pair slowly. The blond Lord had forgone retrieving another sleeping robe and had instead wrapped a bed sheet around his waist, holding it in place with one hand. His golden hair cascaded down to his hips and over the pale skin of his shoulders and arms. Piercing azure eyes observed Calendir closely, noting the color of the youth’s clothes. The elfling felt himself quall a little beneath such searching eyes and found he could not return Glorfindel’s gaze.

“Anything wrong?” Glorfindel asked, turning to Ecthelion, who was rapidly reading the short letter in his hands. He leaned over a bit, reading pieces of the scroll from over Ecthelion’s shoulder.

“Nay, all is well,” Ecthelion replied, re-rolling the letter in his hands. “Thank you, Calendir. It was not necessary to come deliver the message personally, but I thank you nonetheless.”

“You are most welcome, my Lord.” With a respectful bow to the pair, Calendir turned and quickly left, retracing his steps. He let out a deep, long sigh as he turned a corner; so the rumors were true after all. He had seen his Lord with his own e had had seen the love and longing they both felt for the other. /I should give up this chase,/ he thought to himself. /I have been bested long ago. Ada was right on this. I shall have to find other interests to occupy my time./ His new resolution in mind, Calendir gave a small smile and briskly headed home.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Who was that?” Glorfindel asked once Calendir had left and Ecthelion closed the door. The pair returned to the bed hand-in-hand; Glorfindel made to lie down, returning the bed sheet to its proper place, as Ecthelion placed his letter on a nearby table and removed his robe.

“The son of one of my advisors,” the Fountain Lord explained as he sat on the bed next to Glorfindel. The blond was lying on his front, his head pillowed on his arms. Ecthelion lovingly brushed aside the waves of golden hair, exposing Glorfindel’s back, before reaching for a small crystal vial and covering his palms and fingers in the scented liquid it contained. He rubbed his hands together to warm the oil, allowing the scent of rosewood to permeate about the room and calm them both. Curling his long legs underneath him so he could kneel on the bed, Ecthelion leaned so close over Glorfindel’s back that the ends of his shoulder blade length hair brushed the blond’s skin.

“He came to deliver one of Arien’s letters, he said. Was it important?”

“Nay. She wanted to tell me to rest and relax, get ant and get some air. She had heard I have been buried under work lately, and was acting in a motherly fashion. It was nothing really.”

Glorfindel arched a delicate eyebrow. It certainly sounded like nothing one needed to be bothered so urgently with. “Then why have it delivered? It could have waited till morning.” He moaned softly as Ecthelion’s oiled hands recommenced the massaging of his back muscles; they had been in the process of giving one another a rub rub to ease out tense muscles that had formed during the rough work week when Calendir had made himself present. Glorfindel had a fleeting urge to seek out the elfling and give him a little throttling for interrupting his bliss, but quickly suppressed the feeling.

“Calendir has had this infatuation with me for quite some time now,” Ecthelion explained.

“How long is ‘quite some time,’ vanimaer?”

“Since he was about twenty.”

“And he is how old now? Past his majority I would presume.”

“He is seventy I believe.”

Glorfindel gave a soft snort. He had no qualms about others’ eyes straying or fantasies forming that involved his lover. Yet this one youth seemed to do more than let his eyes wander and his imagination soar. Glorfindel had seen the faint flicker of lustful love in Calendir’s eyes when he was observing the elfling earlier. Calendir was barely past his majority and already plotting things that involved the Lord of his house. Glorfindel found the whole matter rather amusing if not a little unsettling. “He’s trying to bed you.” He felt Ecthelion’s hands still on his back at his statement.

“Glorfindel!” He had not excepted to hear that out of his lover. His cheeks tinged a faint pink color as Ecthelion stared down at Glorfindel’s shoulder blades. The blond didn’t seem to notice as he became lost in thought.

“He is. Think about it. Before today, how often during the day do you see him?”

Ecthelion thought about the question for a moment. The answers he was formulating was a little startling. “Now that you mention it, I see him quite often. More often than I see the other members of my house, other than my advisors.”

“How often?” Glorfindel rolled onto his side and propped himself up onto one elbow so that he could observe his lover from a better angle. Ecthelion was chewing on his lower lip as he searched his memory; the blond simply lay quiet and waited for him to respond.

“Four, maybe five times a day. Perhaps more, I‘m not quite certain.”

“Ever been alone with him?” He watched his love nod. “What does he say when it’s just the two of you? Does he ask anything unusual?”

“He’s always asking about my health and how I fare, wants to know about my family and past. Calendir has tried to ask me about lovers before, and asked if the rumors about us floating around the city were true.”

“What did you say?”

“I didn’t deny anything, but I didn’t confirm anything either. He smiled after that and asked if he could accompany me back to my rooms as it was late and the evening was wearing on. He seemed a little disappointed when I bid him good night and shut the door.” Gray-blue eyes widened as realization dawned on the Fountain Lord. “You don’t seriously think…”

“Think about it, vanimaer. He’s always trying to please you, always looking for opportunities to find you alone. I very much doubt he believed any of the rumors he heard--until today.”

Ecthelion couldn‘t believe this. He had often questioned Calendir‘s unusual amount of attention, had even thought the exact same things Glorfindel was telling him right now. But, somehow, the idea never seemed to fully register until this very moment. It was all very odd, and almost difficult to accept. “But he’s so young! How can he think about me in that way?”

“Half the city probably thinks about you in way way, and me too come to think of it. Come on now, let’s switch.” Glorfindel rose up into a sitting position and gently coaxed Ecthelion to lie down. Once his lover had obeyed, the blond quickly coated his hands in the scented oil and began to gently work out the knots in the muscles of Ecthelion’s back.

rfinrfindel? Do you think Calendir really meant to…”

“Aye, now stop thinking about it. Take Arien’s advice and relax. That’s it, melethron.” Glorfindel leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on Ecthelion’s shoulder as he felt his lover relax under his hands. He was pleased to see gray-blue eyes flutter shut and a long sigh issue from pink tinged lips.

Silence permeated about the room for the next few moments, broken now and again by sighs and soft moans issued by Ecthelion as Glorfindel continued to work out the knots in his back. The Fountain Lord had begun to doze in his bliss but was drawn back to wakefulness when his hair was brushed aside and a loving kiss placed upon his neck.

“Malthener?”

“Hm?”

“What are you doing?”

“Getting you to relax. Are you not enjoying this?”

Warm hands smoothed across the skin of Ecthelion’s back as another kiss was given, this one lightly brushing his ear tip. He shivered lightly at the touch and gave another long sigh. “I don’t believe this is what Arien had in mind when she wrote her letter,” he murmured.

“Oh, but it is wh hav have in mind.”

“Good. Then I shall have something to look forward to.”

“I daresay you will.”

Ecthelion gave a soft sounding giggle as he allowed Glorfindel to roll him onto his back. The blond loomed over him for a moment, golden hair creating a curtain about them and catching the last lights of the fading sun. The lovers gazed deeply into one another’s eyes, their faces drawing ever closer until their lips met and a long, lingering kiss was shared. Glorfindel’s tongue darted out to gently brush against Ecthelion’s lips, which eagerly parted and allowed entrance; the Flower Lord took his time exploring his lover’s mouth, remembering and finding warm crevices to tease, and taking a moment to dance wildly with Ecthelion’s. Chests became tight when the need for air became apparent. Reluctantly they parted, and drew each other closer as they panted softly.

“Do not tell me is is all you have to offer tonight, melme,” Ecthelion teasingly whispered into Glorfindel’s ear before suckling the tip, his fingers tangling into the long golden mane. He yelped as the blond nipped at his shoulder, leaving behind a slight red mark.

“I have much more to give before Anor rises again.”

“And you are hesitating…why?”

“Insolence!” Glorfindel declared in a mock authoritative voice. He grinned at Ecthelion’s pout before claiming another kiss, all the while his hands began to roam over the lithe body before him. The dark-haired Elf moaned at the touches, his member stirring and growing hard. Glorfindel felt his own erection hardening and shifted forward a little, grinding their hips together. Ecthelion let out a soft gasp, which Glorfindel delighted in hearing before rubbing their erections together again to hear more of that wondrous sound.

“Don’t forget,” Ecthelion said breathlessly, a deep moan issuing from his throat as a warm hand wrapped around his sex. “You’re supposed to be relaxing as well.”

“I am aware of that.” Glorfindel arched an eyebrow at the mischievous glint in his lover’s eye. He didn’t have time to dwell on the matter as he hissed softly, his erection becoming wrapped in a warm but loose hold.

“Vanimaer…”

“We can relax together, malthener.”

Instead of answering, Glorfindel bowed his head forward and began to gentle suck on Ecthelion’s neck. The pair easily set up a comfortable rhythm, their bodies well accustomed to the touches and caresses of the other. The blond gently stroked his lover, bestowing light brushings of his fingertoverover the slit and smearing the pearly essence that collected there. He smiled upon hearing the soft mews of pleasure elicited by his ministrations, his own groans chorusing with his lover’s sounds as Ecthelion’s hand set a gentle pumping motion. Their free hands, along with their lips, set to wandering over bare, heated skin wherever they could reach, giving and receiving more loving caresses.

All thoughts of Calendir and his possible intentions were banished from Ecthelion’s mind as he drowned himself in Glorfindel’s presence. Had the elfling actually approached him, he found it would have been easy to gently deny such infatuation. Glorfindel’s love was pure and unconditional, and Ecthelion found he craved it. He found himself more drawn to the Flower Lord each day, wishing for his presence and cng hng his touches. It was an unexplainable hunger he felt, one he didn’t want explained but experienced. Ecthelion gave himself fully to the rush of sensations he waelineling now. Curling one leg around his lover’s, he sought to press their bodies closer and sealed their lips together for another kiss.

Glorfindel understood his lover’s wordless requests and pulled them closer, their skin creating a delightful friction as they touched. He removed his hand, brushing Ecthelion’s away as well. Their hips pressed together, erections rubbing and pearls of seed mingling. A soft whimper sounded near Glorfindel’s ear and he bestowed a gentle kiss upon silvery black tresses. “Im mela lle, melethron,” he whispered softly, searching for Ecthelion’s hands before entwining their fingers.

“Ilyamenie,” came the whispered r, th, the hold on his hand tightening. How many times have they declared their undying love? How many times have they whispered endearments and shared kisses in the night? Glorfindel didn’t care; he wished he could hear Ecthelion’s voice speaking of their love until the end of time.

“Come with me, vanimaer.”

“Glorfindel…” Their voices died, wordless pleas fled their lips as they reached orgasm together. Lights dazzled behind their eyes as they spent their seeds, the milky essence mingling between them. Exhausted and satiated, they sank into the bed, wrapped tightly in one another’s embrace and ignoring the stickiness beginning to form. Minutes passed in which all either could do was stare lovingly at the other, now and then reaching out to brush aside a stray strand of hair or caress warm skin.

“I love you,” Glorfindel whispered as he drew Ecthelion closer until their forehearushrushed together. “I’ve loveu fou for the longest time, and I’ll always love you.” He smiled as Ecthelion nodded and they shared another kiss. After another quiet moment, Glorfindel rose from the bed to stretch, grimacing as he did so. He turned and held out a hand towards his lover, smiling as Ecthelion stared at it questioningly. “I believe a bath is in order.” Glorfindel watched in amusement as Ecthelion raised a brow before staring down at his torso and frowning. Moments later the Fountain Lord let out a mirthful laugh.

“Aye, I think a bath will do,” Ecthelion said, taking Glorfindel’s hand and allowing himself to be helped to his feet, realizing with slight relief that the bed sheets had been spared of their lovemaking. Sharing another kiss, the pair strolled towards the awaiting bathroom to enjoy the rest of their pleasant evening before duty called again at sunrise.

TBC...