Glorfindel Unleashed

Title : 'Glorfindel Unleashed', 16/16 *COMPLETE*
Author: Eawen Penallion
Type: FPS
Beta: Most excellent Nienna, so encouraging!
Disclaimer: all rights to the characters belong to JRR
Tolkien - I'm only playing with them.
Pairing: Glorfindel/Erestor in later chapters
Warnings: M/M, implied child abuse, angst, character
death


Summary : When Glorfindel becomes a child's protector,
he does not realise what Erestor will be to him when
he reaches majority. Can love survive the trials of
death and destiny?

A/N: AU as it is my story, but canon to LOTR where possible. The possible relationship of Glorfindel and Gildor comes from a number of sources. Gildor is said to descend from the House of Finrod, and Glorfindel is a 'Prince of a Royal House'. I have back-tracked that to a possible common ancestor - Indis, wife of Finwe.


Chapter 16

T.A. 1975 - 1976


The presence of daylight was beginning to impinge upon Glorfindel's reverie. In an attempt to deny its arrival, Glorfindel shifted to turn away from the light - then winced as a sharp ache emanated from his lower body. What the -? He paused in his movement, then a slow smile spread across his face as he remembered the events of the night before. Their lovemaking had not stopped with that first and most wonderful union, for the repressed passions of millennia could not be satisfied in just one intercourse. No indeed, there had followed numerous enthusiastic re-unions, until Glorfindel had finally expressed a concern for thfetyfety of his beautiful pen-neth. At which point his insatiable melethron had climbed upon *him* and had insisted on 'completing the circle' - and returning the copious favours that Glorfindel had bestowed upon him that night. Glorfindel's grin widened, and he heard a melodious chuckle beside his ear. Vision focussing, he turned his head to see glorious chocolate-brown eyes twinkling in that sweet face. Erestor lay turned upon his side, his head propped on one hand, his raven hair tumbling wildly over his shoulders.

"Maer aur, pen-neth, how are you this morning?" Glorfindel said softly, rising up on his elbows - then wincing once again as the twinge of pain shot through him. Erestor laughed.

"Good morning, meleth-nîn. I am well - though I *really* don't think that you can call me 'little one' any more, can you?" he finished with a self-satisfied smirk.

Glorfindel's eyes widened and he was at a loss for words, his mouth gaping as a fish out of water. Stunned, he fell back onto the pillow.

"Elbereth!" he groaned, "I took to my bed the cool counsellor of Imladris, and I have woken to my bawdy brat of Gondolin!"

Both laughed merrily at this, and Erestor rolled on top of his mate, kissing him wildly across his face. "My love. My lord." He paused looking down inhosehose shining sapphire eyes, his gleeful expression softening. "*My* Glorfindel..."

"Aye," whispered the golden lord, stroking that soft cheek. "Always yours, ind nîn." Erestor brought his head close to Glorfindel's ear, breathing lightly across the gentle peak. Glorfindel shuddered at the hot breath, his morning arousal reacting emphatically to the spasm of pleasure that shot through him.

"Prove it."

The erotic taunt, breathed into that pink ear, broke any self-restraint the seneschal may have had. Erestor's eyes had darkened to black and desire was rampant in his face. Glorfindel grasped him by the shoulders and moved swiftly to roll on top of the dark elf. He gazed down at this most beautiful elf - *his* beautiful elf. Glorfindel growled possessively.

"With pleasure..."

Then he claimed those rose-red lips in a kiss that bespoke of love eternal.

And so the dance began once more, the broad frame of the golden lord overshadowing yet sheltering the slim figure beneath. His thick arousal found a welcome embrace within that elf and the lord thrust languorously in and out of the velvet sheath, listening with pleasure to the unrestrained cries of Erestor as he stroked repeatedly against that small but effective gland. He came with a shout, spilling his essence deep within that precious channel as Erestor's semen splashed hotly against his stomach. Breathing heavily, he dropped his head so that he lightly touched Erestor's forehead, trying to support his strong body so that he would not crush his lover.

"Erestor, oh gods, Erestor!" he grinned down at the panting elf. "Ai, I feel as if I had faced a hundred Witch-kings, so well have you used me this night!"

Erestor pushed back the damp raven strands from his moist face, smiling widely even as he caught his own breath.

"Oh, but my lord," he said with a practiced innocence, sly shyness creeping onto his face. "That was *last* night - and it *is* morning now...?"

Glorfindel looked up in alarm. "No, no, no! At least let me empty a certain part of my anatomy before you ask me to fill you again, my insatiable counsellor."

Erestor grinned. "Brat. I'm your brat."

"Whatever!"

Glorfindel ignored his pouting pen-neth and withdrew from that oh-so-lovely sheath, determined to make use of the privy in his bathing chamber. As he began to rise he heard Erestor's sharp intake of breath and groaned inwardly. He had truly forgotten about those damned scars, and he turn penitently, expecting to see the pain once again on Erestor's face. Instead his love looked up at him with awe, tears of wonder trickling down his face.

"They are gone, Glorfindel!"

"What?!" Glorfindel asked in shock. Erestor knelt up on the edge of the bed, turning Glorfindel away from him so that he could stroke the smooth back.

"They are gone, my darling lord, as are the silver scars." Erestor smiled through his tears of happiness. "Your skin is as smooth and as clear as on the day of your birth." And he kissed that tender skin gently, with reverence and with love.

Glorfindel turned once more, gathering his pen-neth into his arms, wiping away those tears. "I thank the Valar at last, pen-vuin, for they have returned my love and my life to me."

"And you to me, my soul."

****

After completing their necessary ablutions, the two elves returned to the haven of their bed, determined not to waste the blessings that their love had brought to them. They talked softly, and laughed merrily, and mated gently, whiling away the morning in total love and harmony. It was after the noon hour that Glorfindel heard the outer door of his chambers click open, and soft murmurs of trespassers in the outer room. He looked down at the elf sleeping softly in his embrace, pleased that Erestor had not been disturbed by the incursion. He was annoyed two-fold; first, that someone had dared to enter his chambers, and second, that they had not announced their presence. He lay still, listening to sounds that denoted the moving of objects, and the slight clink of glass, and further murmurs, until he finally heard a second click, then silence. Glorfindel's curiosity got the better of him and, with care to move slowly so as not to wake his love, he slid from the bed and padded lightly to the door to the drawing room. What he saw made his mouth drop, then a gentle smile curved on his lips.

"Glorfindel? What is wrong, my heart?" came the sleepy voice from the bed behind him. The golden elf turned, beckoning to his love. He grinned.

"Come, Erestor. Come and see."

Erestor rose, moving carefully in his exquisite discomfort, and slid into the welcoming arm.

"Oh my goodness!"

The room was changed from the night before. Gone were the stubs of burnt-out candles, the dishes of untouched sweetmeats and the bottles of un-poured wine. Instead the round dining table had been covered with a snow-white cloth, and two place settings of silver and fine porcelain were laid upon it. Fresh glasses of crystal were to be found next to the light golden wine in its decanter, and dishes of assorted breads, meats, cheeses and fruits waited for them. A bouquet of spring flowers was simply arranged in a porcelain vase.

"Elrond or Celebrían, do you think?" mused the seneschal. Erestor pointed to two posies of celandine, carefully bound with silver ribbons, which lay upon each plate.

"Arwen, I should think, judging by the clever braiding of the ribbons," he said. Glorfindel laughed, and pointed to two soft cushions placed pointedly on the dining chairs.

"And I spy the handiwork of the twins!" he guffawed.

To ignore such a thoughtful gift would have been churlish and, after donning light dressing gowns, the two elves indulged lightly, and toasted their affirmed love and new-born unity of souls. The lunch made them realise that the outer world still existed, and that their dearest friends probably wanted to share their happiness, so they decided to dress and join Elrond and his family. Indeed, Glorfindel was eager, for to declare the renewal of their betrothal meant that the preparations for their binding day could begin all the sooner. To dress meant to bathe first, however, and in the balmy water of the sunken tub they found that heat of another kind rose, and so it was that the had had begun its descent in the sky when the seneschal of Imladris and Elrond's chief counsellor finally emerged from Glorfindel's chambers.

The two elves were greeted with great cheer, with open arms and delighted smiles. Elrond and Celebrían embraced them in turn, as did Mithrandir, and they received more vigorous and excited hugs from the Peredhil siblings. Thanks were given to the children by the couple, for the charming surprise they had found earlier that day, and much laughter abounded in the room at mention of the thoughtful pillows.

"Ai, I believe poor Lindir had to beg a bed from Saelbeth last night," grinned Elladan. "He mentioned that a herd of oliphaunts had moved into the chamber next to him, and roared in play all night!"

Erestor blushed, for he knew that Lindir was neighbour to Glorfindel's rooms, but his melethron simply laughed once more and tightened his endless hold on his little love.

"Well, as for that, we must see about getting us larger chambers, pen-vuin. Mayhap Lindir would exchange with you, then we could expand mine into his, and make them ours?"

It was a good idea, for Erestor had no especial attachment to his own chambers, they having been but a refuge from the world in his loneliness. He much preferred Glorfindel's, for there he had united his fëa with that of his true love. However, it was a topic for another time.

Talk turned to their binding day, and Elrond was surprised when they both declined the suggestion of the day of Tarnin Austa, just over twelve months away.

"Nay," said Glorfindel, shaking his head. "There are so many reasons that it should *not* be that day. There are too many sad memories for us both, never mind that Erestor's begetting day has always been overshadowed by the preparations. As an elfling I always hated my begetting day for that reason."

Elrohir's eyes widened. "Ai, I don't think that I have ever known your begetting day, meldir? When is it?"

"Yuletide Eve," said Erestor softly, and looked at his beloved with warm eyes, for their little tradition of exchanging gifts on their conception day res restarted during their long years of reconciliation, unbeknownst to the others. Small gifts, left in desk drawers, with no name but much love. Glorfindel smiled and lifted his dark love's hand to his lips, kissing it with all his love and devotion.

"And now, I have received my best gift of all."

****

The date had been set for a late spring day yet, although it was still a year away, the preparations had already started in earnest. Erestor had bemoaned that fact that he had no betrothal ring to give to Glorfindel. They ordered from the jewel-smith a ring to be made in accordance with the specifications Glorfindel had designed so long ago - a simple mithril ring to be emblazoned with the rune 'E', for Erestor. In the meantime Arwen, with her clever fingers, had taken some strands of hair from both their heads and had twisted and braided them into a ring, sable and gold, preserved and strengthened with layers of varnish. Glorfindel wore this ring with pride and, when the mithril ring was ready and finally placed on his finger by his soul-mate, it was retired with honour to the little carved box that had held another ring for four thousand years.

In the weeks that had followed the announcement of their betrothal the inhabitants of Imladris had, with their usual eloquence, discussed this union in depth, and the gossip mills had run rampant. For those who remembered the initial strain of Glorfindel's arrival this announcement was no surprise, for was it not often the case that the course of true love did not always run smooth? The younger elves could hardly believe the tale that the chief counsellor had once been a black, dour, stern elf, for in the years of reconciliation Erestor's dark outer shell had been tempered much at Glorfindel's insistence. What none of them were prepared for was the dramatic change in Erestor's behaviour in the throes of love revealed.

In council meetings Erestor was much the same - be-robed in dark colours, his hair in stately braids, his demeanour that of the regal advisor all had known. Once duty was over however, the change was evident. Erestor had retained the use of Melpomaen as an assistant to Saelbeth, for it freed him from the many menial tasks he had once undertaken to fill his long, lonely dark days. Now his days were dark no more and the off-duty Erestor was as a youth again. Gone were the robes, instead he wore tunics and leggings, or crisp white shirts with jerkins of reds, russets or greens. His hair was unbound, brushed and burnished so that the red highlights shone under Anor's rays. His face always carried a smile - mostly a gentle, shy smile, for he still retained some of the reserve and shyness that had been his from his birth. But when he was with Glorfindel it was as if the golden lord was his sun, and he glowed in the beatific rays bestowed only upon him - and he smiled, that brilliant smile that was meant for his beloved lord alone. Even those who had once lusted and longed to break the councillor's icy crusting could now only stare in astonishment at this glorious creature, and jealous envy of the seneschal was rife.

They went everywhere together, for neither was happy unless with the other. They walked the pathways of the extensive gardens, and were often seen lounging beneath a shady tree, Glorfindel's head in Erestor's lap as his betrothed read to him. They rode out upon their fine mounts, and galloped on the hills for miles around, revelling in the freedom it gave them. They swam in the Bruinen, playfully splashing and diving, bare of clothes, as Ilúvatar had intended. And loving, always loving. Kisses and caresses were bestowed without restraint, and their love shone as a beacon of hope.

In private Erestor had no hesitation in expressing his love to Glorfindel in every way. Their passion within their bedchamber knew no bounds, though the reversal of roles initiated by Erestor on that first night was not often repeated. Erestor was happier being the recipient of his beloved lord's attentions, but Glorfindel's needs were in no way neglected. Indeed, Andrann saw this lightness of heart even on the most dangerous of patrols, and found it eerie that the golden lord would grin even as he sliced open an orc's belly.

Many letters were sent as part of the preparations for the ceremony, both as announcements of the nuptials and as invitations to the event. Time was passing swiftly now and barely had the Yuletide observance passed when the day was upon them.

****

The guests began to arrive some days before the nuptials, to allow them time to rest so that they could partake of the festivities more fully. First to arrive was the Wandering Company and their lord Gildor Inglorion. Erestor and Glorfindel waited eagerly on the steps of the house as the procession of elves rode into the courtyard. Erestor was unrestrained in his welcome.

"Díwen!"

He flew to the now-dismounted elleth, folding her into a tight embrace. The dark-haired elleth laughed and rejoiced in her brother's happiness, delighted to see all trace of sadness erased from his face. Díwen would be standing at Erestor's side at the ceremony, acting as his family witness - Elrond would be his friend-supporter. Introductions were made, for her husband Orthored, her son Pathon, and her daughter Nienna and her spouse accompanied Díwen.

A second family reunion also took place. Erestor had researched into Glorfindel's background intensely in remembrance of an obscure reference he had once seen. Sure enough, he had discovered kinship between his betrothed and Lord Gildor, through their common lineage to Finarfin and his mother, Indis of the Vanyar. Glorfindel was glad of this connection, however slight, for he had great respect and friendship for the southern lord following their meeting centuries before. Gildor had been delighted to receive the invitation for him to stand as Glorfindel's kin-witness, doubly so when he learned that Círdan would be the golden lord's friend-supporter.

Círdan soon followed, as did representatives from Mirkwood and the Golden Wood. Neither of the latter rulers felt able to leave their respective realms with the darkness yet growing, especially Thranduil. The fortress of Dol Guldur was inhabited, and releasing into the depths of the wood such creatures as would make the blood run cold. Nevertheless his son, the fair Prince Legolas, came in his father's stead much to the delight of the twin princes of Imladris, who had known him since his birth. From Lothlórien came Haldir, who recalled their days as teachers to the young princes.

"Ai, what trouble we had then, eh my friends?" the Marchwarden said warmly. "I am so happy that you have found each other, and may your days be filled with light." And they had embraced in joy and happiness.

Glorfindel greeted Círdan with great warmth, and expressed his thanks to his dear friend for his agreement to his part in the binding ceremony. The bearded lord gripped Glorfindel's forearms in a warrior's greeting, returning the generosity of his sentiments.

"You are most welcome, mellon-nîn. The strength that you showed both in your resolution to complete this task, and upon the battlefield itself, make me honoured to be counted as your friend. Yet tell me, have you decided whether I need to build a new ship? Will you be travelling to the Undying Lands?"

"We have made that decision, and the answer is 'No'." Glorfindel replied. "We are happy here, but one day we will wish to travel. Just not yet."

Indeed, they had determined not to leave Middle Earth, but to stay in Imladris. This they had told to both Mithrandir and Elrond, and the Istar and the Elf-lord were glad.

"It is as I said, young Glorfindel," said Mithrandir. "The world is darkening, yet by your deeds you have brought some light. The strength of many will be required before this Age is done, and yours is a strength that has been revealed and will give much heart to those who face the evil in the future. And you Erestor, your sage advice and extensive knowledge will be a blessing to Elrond in his work."

Erestor nodded, glancing up at his love before he answered. Glorfindel squeezed his hand, reassuring him.

"Elrond," the dark advisor said, "you have always been the most sympathetic friend, and you and Celebrían have cared for Glorfindel and I through the darkest moments of our love. How could we desert you now, as the Age moves on into what we have been told will be a time of great disturbance? You have our support and our friendship at all times. Imladris is our home, and we will defend it, you and your family with our lives."

"Aye," added Glorfindel. "The deed I undertook was the will of the Valar, but at my return I also swore to protect the line of Turgon, Idril and Eärendil. You and your family are mine to protect, Elrond. I will not fail you."

And so that decision was made, and there was amity between the House of Elrond and the House of the Golden Flower.

****

And so it was the night before his binding day that Glorfindel lay alone his large bed, listening to the thunder of the water tumbling endlessly over the cliffs into the pool far below. Ithil shone her cool rays into the bedchamber, but it was not that which kept the golden lord awake. It was the empty space beneath him. Erestor was gone.

Celebrían and Arwen had insisted upon it, upon the tradition of the betrothed to spend their last night in solitary contemplation and rest for, tittered Arwen, 'you will get none tomorrow night!' Little Arwen was not little any more, and could jest as well as her brothers. Erestor had coloured but then laughed, and they had both agreed to abide by tradition. Erestor had retired to a guest bedroom after a family dinner in Elrond's quarters, though the family had been extended somewhat. The four supporters of the to-be-weds were present as were their families, and a cheery party had ensued.

Now it was quiet. Too quiet. With a final sigh Glorfindel got up from the bed and dressed in sleeping pants and a dressing gown, soft slippers on his feet. He took one last look around the room in the moonlight. His robes for the following day were on a stand near the bed, rich blue silk emblazoned with exquisite flowers embroidered in golden thread at collar and hem. The flower was the celandine, of course, at Erestor's insistence. Erestor would wear matching robes of teal-green silk, with the same motifs. Tomorrow they would reclaim their heritage as part of the ceremony and deny no more their former lives. One last look, then Glorfindel left his chambers, happy in the knowledge that from tomorrow night Erestor would be with him here, until the end of their time in Middle Earth.

The corridors were deserted, and Glorfindel's progress was unimpeded. He made his way to the entrance to the gardens, enjoying the mystical shadows of the flora in the unblinking moonlight. All colour was leached from the vibrant flowers, and shades of white, black and grey were all that were left. He looked across the lawn, admiring the wedding portico that had been set up that day, supervised by Celebrían and Arwen; though it was Elrohir and Elladan who had done most of the work. It was beautiful, covered with white spring blossoms twisted with ivy, and highlighted once again with the flower of his house. Underneath that canopy of flowers he and Erestor would stand and speak their vows in love and joy. Mithrandir was officiating tomorrow, and behind Glorfindel would stand Círdan and Gildor, whilst Elrond and Díwen would support Erestor. Mithrandir would raise their hands and join them, wrapping around their joined wrists the white satin cloth that would symbolise the blessing of the gods. Then Glorfindel would gather his pen-neth into his arms, and kiss him deeply, with a heart fulfilled...

A clearing of the throat alerted Glorfindel to the presence of another in the garden, and he turned to see a shape in the shadows, looking for all the world like a sack of black rags. His heart skipped a beat, then the black velvet veil lifted and the midnight hair was pushed off the creamy-white face.

"I knew that you would come," Erestor said simply, holding out a hand to beckon his love. "I could not sleep either, and I knew where you would be."

Glorfindel crossed the grass to sit beside him, taking that hand and raising it to his lips.

"I missed you," he said. Erestor no.
.

"I know."

Glorfindel looked across the grass, his loved one beside him. He knew that Erestor was seeing the same thing.

"They are very like our gardens, eh pen-neth? So long ago, so far away..."

Erestor's hand snaked into his, and Glorfindel felt that precious ring upon his finger. It would be on a different finger tomorrow.

"Aye, hir-nîn, I remember. So much do we forget from the beginning of our lives, so that our childhood only comes back in small flashes of memory. So much forgotten. I did not forget that. Our first meeting, when you sat by a grieving boy and tried to comfort him. You were so big, so strong. I knew instinctively that I could trust you. That you would always protect me. I remember your hand stroking across my face when I was desolate, awaiting rescue. I remember you holding me close in that dark, dank room, and I knew that you would never let me go again."

"No, I would never let you go," Glorfindel whispered. "I never will."

There were no other words spoken as Glorfindel bent down to claim those rose-red lips, now a non-shade in Ithil's light. Pushing down gently he lowered his darling Erestor to the grass, slipping that deep black-red robe from the advisor's shoulders. Erestor was naked beneath them, his beautiful body like a perfectly sculpted statue. But he was warm and welcoming, his fingers undoing the tie on Glorfindel's dressing gown, and then turning so that he could kneel over his lord to remove the sleep pants from his hips. Glorfindel's glorious mane lay tumbled on the grass, and Erestor bent down to take a few strands, lifted them to his nose to savour their fresh scent. Lazily he dropped them as his mouth moved nearer to Glorfindel's peaked ear, his breath hot upon their points; he licked them lightly and grinned at the hiss he elicited.

It was an exploration of body and soul, both of which they knew so well but which would never cease to reveal new nuances in their years together.h exh exploration was as if of virgin territory, full of pleasures found anew. Lips slowly tracked their way across the skin's surface, tasting the salt within, luxuriating in its tenderness. A throat was massaged, a breast was tasted, nipples suckled. Slowly, slowly. Short gasps ensued from both as their heat rose, as the plunder took more strenuous form. Hands roamed across silken backs, curving down the spine, squeezing the firm buttocks, lifting and opening them to expose that tender aperture. Glorfindel started as he felt the precious rose-bud, slick with oil.

"My love -!"

Erestor kissed him deeply, allowing no speech as he plunged into that sweet cavern, his tongue delving, possessing all those dark places; possessing Glorfindel. He panted as he broke off the urgent devouring, smiling knowingly when he saw the open lust and love on his lord's face.

"I told you," he breathed, "I knew that you would come." He leant forward, stroking that beloved face, words wanting to be spoken, yet he wondered if he should say them, for they seemed ungrateful in their sentiment.

"I want tomorrow, Glorfindel, I want the joy of our wedding to be open, under the sun, in brightness and honour but... I wish that it could be just the two of us, saying our vows in a softer light."

Glorfindel smiled gently, stroking the soft arms of the elf, his most beautiful elf, who straddled him. Erestor's body shone, reflected Ithil's beams with a glow that made his dark beauty luminous.

"I think it is too late to elope, my love." Glorfindel's saw Erestor's lips curl slightly, then realised just what Erestor *did* mean. "Here, my love?"

Erestor nodded. "Then we can still have tomorrow, and we could repeat our vows tomorrow night, but tonight - I want this, Glorfindel."

There was no hesitation. "Then you shall have it, ind-nîn." The golden lord reached up as if to roll them over, but Erestor pushed him back. Instead he took Glorfindel's swollen shaft in his hand and stroked it, pressing his fingers over the weeping slit, milking it of its essences. He stroked the fluid over the velvet skin, making it slick and moist. Rising gently, he positioned his opening over the demanding member; lowering steadily, he relished the feeling of his channel taking the whole length in as he impaled himself upon his love.

Glorfindel grasped Erestor's hands, steadying him as his love grew atometomed to the sensation, then slowly began to move, thrusting gently upwards. Erestor began to move, using his strong thigh muscles to raise and lower himself. The dark elf was panting already, moaning with delight as the thick flesh within him brushed against that tender gland, revelling in the darts of ecstasy shooting through his body. His head was raised, bathed in Ithil's light. Pure, untainted love glowed from every pore. Erestor looked down once again at the golden lord, and both sets of eyes burned black with lust in the absence of colour. Erestor nodded to Glorfindel, and Glorfindel spoke.

"I, Glorfindel of Gondolin, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower, do bind myself to you in love eternal. Heart to heart, body to body, soul to soul; I am yours forever. Let the Valar witness my oath, and send their blessing upon us."

Erestor smiled, gaining enough control of his breath to complete his own vow.

"In Erestor Galwionion, uin Herth-e-mallos, gweth mi meleth uireb anim allen. Gur na úr, rhaw na thraw, faer na faer; nathon ah len an uir. Valar, lasto 'west nin, a toltho éil lin am 'wethed vin."

Glorfindel could hold back no more. Erestor was his. His thrusts became lunges, his body arching to drive deeper into his soul-mate, and Erestor pressed down to meet him. They both felt a tingling across their naked bodies, as if the fire of lightning crawled across their skin. The inborn glow of the Firstborn flared into life, encompassing them both and shone brighter as their bond was affirmed. It shone between them; it snaked around them, joining them in total unity. In this most perfect of unions their souls spoke to one another and the ecstasy flooding their bodies reverberated through that bond, setting up such an echo that they could scarce abide. It was intense; it was immense. Nothing had felt like it ever, in the history of Arda.

They were no longer in their bodies, those bodies were but shells, writhing in the physical plane below them. They danced amongst the stars, their souls, their *one* soul expanding to fill the universe. Tilion greeted them as they passed Ithil; Eärendil saluted them from the deck of Vingilot, his brow bearing that precious Silmaril; then Varda caught them, as she had caught their souls on their first union of body one year ago. She held their souls, and with one gesture the heavens shook, releasing shooting stars across the firmament in blessing of this unprecedented completion of bodily and spiritual rapture.

Erestor fell upos mes melethron's body, drained from the intensity of that climax, the completion amongst the stars. Glorfindel, with effort, wrapped his arms about his sweet love, feeling his body accept once again his spirit, now doubly bound to Erestor. For he could feel his drained emotions, he could sense his love's whirling thoughts through the bond. Never again would he be alone in his world, for Erestor would always be with him. They were One.

Glorfindel recovered first. Although he would wish to lie here all night, it would occasion too much talk in the morning. It would seem that their lovemaking had been rendered silent by the will of the Valar, for none stirred to witness their rising from the grass, to see them slowly enrobe themselves. Glorfindel held his pen-neth in his arms, feeling his soft breath against his chest, then he lifted him. Erestor wrapped his arms around his neck and kissing him lightly on the lips, snuggled further into the arms of his husband, his lover, his saviour, his lord. Glorfindel carried him over the grass, into the house, where their destination was their chambers, there to sleep entwined until Anor rose.

They would have their day in the sun, they would enjoy the binding with their loved ones - but they would already know that they were now complete, and blessed beyond measure. Their love was would last forever. Until the end of Arda.

And beyond.

THE END


Author's Note: I would like to extend my most grateful thanks to my brilliant beta, Nienna, who really pushed me to get this perfect and, with help from other elvish speakers, got my Sindarin right! And to all those who have read this story and sent me feedback -it really kept me going.

Elvish:

melethron - beloved, male lover
Maer aur - good morning
pen-neth - little one
meleth-nîn - my love
ind-nîn - my heart
pen-vuin - dear one
meldir - friend
hir-nîn - my lord

Erestor's oath:

** I, Erestor son of Galwion, of the House of the Golden Flower, do bind myself to you in love eternal. Heart to heart, body to body, soul to soul; I am yours forever. Let the Valar witness my oath, and send their blessing upon us. **