The Flower and The Fountain

Unnumbered Tears
Summary: The Nirnaeth Arnoediad, the Battle of Unnumbered Tears. It has been long years since the battle ended. And yet, with foreboding entering his heart, Ecthelion begins to remember the last words Huor uttered to him and needs Glorel'el's comfort.

The sounds of battle were surrounding him, the scent of blood in the air and the crimson liquid staining the land. His senses were being overwhelmed, his stomach growing queasy as the fight wore on. The ground was littered with the corpses of Orcs and Elves alike; unstaring elven eyes turned up to the sky, the light burned out of them, never to see Arien’s next sunset or rise. It was too much…too much…

~~~~~~~~~~

I wake with a start, the dream--nay, the memory--so vivid in my mind it feels as if the events took place just yesterday. A wind stirs, cold and from tast,ast, passing in through the barely open balcony doors. I do not feel the cold, but I shiver all the same and suddenly realize my nakedness. My love slumbers beside me, oblivious to my sudden distress; a small smile tugs at the corners of my lips as I watch his chest rise and fall, a truly peaceful sight as I lean over to brush a kiss over a lock of hair.

I let Glorfindel sleep, and retrieve one of the extra sheets--silken gold, like much of the bedding--and wrap it loosely about my frame. I leave the bed we share, clutching the ends to my chest to retain some form of modesty. Silently I walk towards the balcony, push open the large doors and step outside, the sheets rustling in my wake. It is a beautiful night that lays before me. Tilion has decided to shine his brightest tonight, bathing Gondolin in a soft, silvery glow. The city is quiet, the guards on duty making hardly a sound as they watch the outer walls, searching for intruders. I know there will be none this night; there has not been one in many years, not since before then.

Then. The Nirnaeth Arnoedid. I do not think I can forget that day no matter how hard I try. It reminded me so much of Alqualondë, and yet it was different. It was not Elf against Elf, and I took up arms in the Fifth Battle whilst I did not in Vali Bu But war and battle are not much different even when fought for different reasons in different places with different warriors. There is still bloodshed, still the lose of life, of friends and family and enemies alike. And it leaves one scarred in some fashion or another.

I never was one for bloodshed and battles. I detest the act though I would gladly take up sword, spear and knife to defend my King, my city, my people and my lover. It is unbecoming of me; Glorfindel has often remarked that, despite my position as Warden of the Gate, he would much prefer that I take up the position as head of Turgon’s minstrels. I do not blame him for saying such. I do well in my work, but there are times I wish I had the duties of another, duties that do not feel as if such a burden has been placed upon my shoulders.

The wind stirs again, playing with my hair and causing raven locks to whip about my face. I raise a hand to brush them aside, regaining sight of the city. Gondolin, how her white walls shimmer in the moonlight as she stands tall and proud within the protective circle of the Echoriath. The city reminds me much of Tirion and the last days I spent there, playing for the court of the Valar when asked or spending time with Glorfindel. They were happy times, times when the troubles of the world did not matter, when such troubles did not even exist. They are days of the past.

Those days are long gone; I will never have them back. I can wish all I want, but the days of Valinor will never return to me. Instead, I begin to think about the events of nearly twenty years ago, about the day Huor came into the city with his brother. I felt akin to Huor the moment he entered the city. I cannot explain why I felt such; after all, I am one of the Eldar and Huor of the Edain. There is no blood in either of our veins that binds us together. And yet I felt as if I knew him, as if I could tell him anything and he would keep my secrets. I’ve never felt that way with anyone before save for Glorfindel and Turgon.

During his stay here, Huor was forever at my side--at least it seemed that way. I remember how he would wander the halls of Turgon’s palace, searching for something; when I asked him what he was searching for, he would smile and say he had already found it. I knew even then that he had been searching for me, yet I did not know why. Huor confessed once that he did not understand it either. He knew that Glorfindel and I were lovers, but that was not what he felt for me. He said he felt as if I was the only one who understood him, something even his own brother could not accomplish. Even to this day I do not know what he meant by those words.

My mind wanders back to the last battle once again. I lost many men from my house that day. My heart ached on the return journey as I thought of the wives and children I had to speak with upon my return. It felt much like the crossing of the Helcaraxë; I wanted to give up and not go on. But Glorfindel wouldn’t let me. He pushed me forward, would not let me falter in a single step. He was there to catch me when I stumbled, to comfort me when the deaths of my men and friends overwhelmed me. Mostly, Glorfindel had been there to hold me during the nights the tears would not stop and the memories of Huor were too great.

He died that day, Huor did, in order to allow us to escape back to Gondolin. He said something to Turgon then, something our King has never spoken of. I do not think I will ever know what Huor’s last words to Turgon were, but I remember his last words to me as he gave me one last smile.

“Dearest Ecthelion, your time has not yet come upon this battlefield, but mine has. You have many days yet before you; do not waste a single moment. Spent it in happiness with Glorfindel. I do not die in vain today. I die so that you and others may yet live to defeat the darkness. Take care my truest friend. Perhaps one day we shall meet again.”

He died for us. The thought has always brought mixed feelings to me. I am glad that Huor died valiantly and that his memory will never be forgotten. Yet I am saddened at the loss of a dear friend. Even Tuor, so much like his father, cannot lessen the heartache I feel. Tears begin to slip down my cheeks as I think of his smile, the smile Huor gave me as he watched us leave before turning back to the battle. My chest burns, my eyes sting and my vision swims.

How many times have I cried? For him? For those lost? My tears alone could outnumber the ones shed by many after that battle. I wish they would stop, but they never do. I cry each and every time I think of those I have lost in pastpast. I choke on a sob as my knees buckle; before I meet the ground, strong arms have wrapped themselves around me, and I am pulled back against another body.

“Vanimaer.”

He whispers my name so lovingly as he turns me around, wiping away my tears before pulling me into his arms again. I bury my face against Glorfindel’s neck as the tears I can no longer hold back continue to come. He does not say a word as he holds me, his hands rubbing soothing circles across my back. Glorfindel knows what it is I have been thinking, how I feel. He has always been there for me, and he always will.

“Hush, meleth,” he whispers whilst stroking my hair. He kisses the top of my head as I wrap my arms around him, holding him close. I’ve lost my family and some of my dearest friends; I cannot imagine what my life would be like if I were to lose Glorfindel as well. Nay, I do not want to imagine life without my lover. My heart would tear in two if such an occurrence took place.

“You were thinking of Huor again.”

It is not a question he is asking me but an observation he is making, and he is correct. I nod my head and close my eyes, breathing in his scent as I fight to control my raging emotions. I hate feeling this way, as if all my strength has left me and I am reduced to a weeping maiden. There is no shame in my tears, I know this and yet I detest these moments all the same. I hate when my memories catch up with me and attack at once. During those times, I lose myself and must rely on Glorfindel to help me find my way again. I was always the strong one when we were children; when did it all change and he became my support?

A warm hand tenderly cups my face, forcing me to look at him. There is caring and compassion in his eyes as my lover gazes at me. I offer him a weak smile, one which he returns before leaning forward and kissing me. It is a brief kiss but one full of his love; I sigh into the caress before he pulls away. Glorfindel smiles again before taking my hand and leading me back inside, neglecting to close the balcony doors after all.

He stops by the bed, and only then do I notice that he has recently awoken from sleep. He wears nothing and the sheets still radiate his warmth. Glorfindel seems to notice my gaze upon him for he smiles and takes hold of my hands, prying loose my grip upon the sheet that is still clad about me. The silk falls, rustling softly as it pools upon the floor. Pulling me along with him, he slips back into the bed and covers us both with the remaining bedding. I nestle into his arms, moving closer as I feel his arms wrap around my back.

For long moments neither of us speak. We hardly move as we lie there, he offering me the silent comfort and love that I need. Tears form in my eyes again, but this time I think of my lover and the tenderness he has always shown me rather than the sadness of the past. My golden one has always had that affect on me, making me forget my troubles when I need to the most. Glorfindel senses my slight change in mood; leaning closer, he begins to kiss away each tear that escapes.

“I love you, Ecthelion. You know that, don’t you?” He gazes at me expectantly, almost fearfully. I know what he is thinking; he is afraid that one day I will either deny him or leave his question unanswered. Though he knows me better than that, he is still afraid. Thus I must ease his heart as he has done mine.

“I know you do,” I answer. “I know that you will always love me, that you have promised to always do so. And I know that you always keep your promises.” I smile at him as I watch his eyes brighten. “I love you, malthener.”

He smiles and pulls me closer, pulls me into a kisshe che caress is more demanding than the one he previously bestowed upon me; I do not resist him as he seeks to deepen the kiss, as the tip of his tongue brushes against mine. My arms wrap themselves about his neck, my fingers twining in his silkeesseesses. He pulls me ever closer, one hand cupping thck ock of my neck. My head falls back as he released my lips before his set to exploring my neck. A sigh escapes me as my eyes fall shut and I give in to him.

Only Glorfindel has ever made me feel this way. With him I feel warm, loved--complete. I’ve never had any lovers other than him. I’ve known him all my life and have desired no one but him. Others, I know, look at me and are enchanted by what they see. They want me, desire me; for my looks or my status I do not know, but certainly not for the true me.

Only Glorfindel has ever seen the real me, the me that hides behind the smiles, polite words and the courtesy of the court. The me that cries when I think of what I’ve lost, what is no longer within my reach. Only Glorfindel could ever know me well enough to discern what it is I am feeling or thinking with just a glance. Only Glorfindel can I ever love truly and completely, without hesitation or a second thought to the contrary.

“Vanimaer…”

His breath is a whisper across my skin as he calls me. His fair one, that’s what I am to Glorfindel. I smile as I cup his face in my hands, urging him to look up at me. He does so with a quizzical expression in his eyes. I merely continue to smile whilst my fingers slowly trace his features; a brush over his nose, a feather light trace of his lips, my hands seek to memorize his face completely just as my eyes have already done. His eyes flutter closed as I place gentle kisses upon the lids, the darkness of my heart banished to a distant corner for the time being. He loves me, and I love him.

“Show me your love, Glorfindel,” I whisper into a pointed ear. “I need to feel your love for me tonight.”

Words are redundant; he knows this and simply nods in answer to my request. Slowly he pulls away, love shining in his eyes as he claims my lips again in another kiss. I melt against him, wishing he would take me now as I need to feel him so desperately. But I know he will not, and he knows that is not what I truly want. Glorfindel knows what I want, sometimes before I do. Oh, how I love him!

As he kisses me, his fingertips dance against my back, smoothing across my skin. I shiver at the touch, so gentle and light; Glorfindel has been nothing but gentle with me. The Elf on the battlefield is nothing like the lover in our bedroom, but I love them both all the same. He deepens our kiss as one hand cups my hip, pulling me closer; I gasp into his mouth as something warm and hard brushes against my inner thigh. Glorfindel, my golden love, please love me tonight.

As if sensing my thoughts, Glorfindel pulls away from my bef before his mouth catches one ear tip. I moan at the touch as he suckles on my skin, the tip of his tongue tracing the contours of my ear. My hands clench around fistfuls of his golden hair, the knuckles white as I hold on as if he were my lifeline. His hand leaves my hip, moving forward before wrapping around me; his palm is warm and his fingers gentle as he begins to stroke. I shudder in his arms, his name leaving my lips as my back arches, my silent plea for more of what only he can give me.

“I love you.” I smile at the whisper in my ear and the kiss to my neck that follows. Words have failed me so I do not reply. Instead I cup his face in my hands before tenderly kissing him upon his brow. I gaze deeply into the azure eyes I fell in love with time and time again. He smiles and gives me a brief kiss before he continues, his hand firm as he strokes me and his lips curious as they kiss every inch of my skin.

I forget the worries and sadness I was claimed by before he came to my side. With Glorfindel, I have no worries, no troubles, no pain. He takes it all away with his presence and a warm smile. My eyes fall closed as I surrender to him. I release a sharp gasp as his mouth replaces his hand, pleasuring me with his tongue. My head falls back onto the pillows, my hands clawing the sheets as I bite back a moan. He knows what I like and does not hesitate to give me what I crave.

Do I wonder if he finds what he is doing pleasurable, or if he is merely doing this for me? I do, but then I realize that Glorfindel is not the kind of person who would do something he did not enjoy or was duty bound by. He would perform any task Turgon set before him out of loyalty to his King and kinsman; he would do anything for me of of love. And for that I love him, and for so much more.

He begins to hum, and the vibrations that course through my body almost send me over the edge. But he stops in time, pulling away; I do not see it, but I somehow feel him smile at the sound of my frustrated whimper of need. Strong arms wrap around me, pulling me off the bed and into a warm embrace. I sigh as he holds me, his heartbeat near my ear, the sound lulling me into a sense of peace and contentment.

A hand, warm and slick with oil--I did not hear him retrieve the vial near the bed, I suddenly realize--trails down my back before finding my entrance. I bury my face into Glorfindel’s shoulder as he breaches me; first one finger then two. I breathe evenly, steadily and relax against the intrusion, allowing him to insert three fingers.

“Malthener,” I whisper into his ear. “Please…”

He nods and lays me back down before giving me another kiss. As he kisses me, I can feel him beginning to press in; wrapping my arms around his neck, I pull my lover closer as he pushes forward until we are joined once again. For long moments we do nothing but hold one another and kiss. But soon my golden lover grows impatient as he always does and delivers the first thrust. A gasp leaves my lips as he manages to brush against that hidden spot within me. Arching my back, I meet each of this thrusts; he whispers my name over and over, each time giving me another kiss to accentuate his words.

“Vanimaer…”

“Meleth?” His voice…there’s something different about it. Glorfindel…he sounds…protective.

“I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

Tears gather in my eyes upon hearing the love in his voice; I close my eyes to prevent them from escaping and hold him tighter. He kisses my neck and continues with our lovemaking, drawing me closer and closer to the edge. He comes before I do, burying himself deeply into me as I feel him come, warmth flooding within me.

My heart is racing but it soon begins to slow down as ebb of passion begins to recede the tiniest bit. He is resting in my arms, his golden hair spilling down his back and over my hands. We are still joined, covered in sweat and yet I do not mind. He feel rather than see him smile as Glorfindel gently pulls out of me; he reaches for the covers before pulling me into his arms. A bath can wait, sleep is beginning to claim us once again. His breathing grows steady, an indication that he has already given in to his dreams. But I lay awake, watching him, studying him.

He is strong, my lover is. When we were children, the years that separated our ages seemed vast. But no more; six hundred years later, a mere ten years seems like a heartbeat. And he has grown stronger over the years. Glorfinds mus much loved in the city, for his beauty, his knowledge, his strength and his heart. Yet he gives me his heart. I love him dearly, and I smile as I think of all the times we have shared together, and the days that are to come.

The days to come. The foreboding returns to my heart, a feeling that will never leave me. My smile fades as an ill feeling washes over me. I was not granted the gift of farsight, of which I am thankful. Yet I, like Idril, feel that something ill will come, and it will come soon. For the time being, my lover’s words and touches have dispelled the darkness that is creeping into my heart. But one day, and one day soon, we will speak of the matter again. And I fear that when that day comes, it will begin the end of Gondolin.

Banng sng such thoughts from my mind--they would do me no good now--I move closer to Glorfindel. Clutching a handful of my lover’s golden hair in order to ground me to the here and now, I fall asleep gazing into his face, the face of peace and calm. The face of love.

TBC...