House of the Golden Flower

OK, I'm adding this early because there's such a shortage of GOOD fics lately, want to encourage you all.


"Mmmmm...good morning my beloved." I murmured into the mouth caressing mine, waking to see Turgon on his hands and knees over me. I kissed him back, stretching in the warm sunshine.

I had designed the bedroom in my house with him in mind, for I knew that he loved waking to the warm caress of sunshine.

He grinned and bit my neck gently, laving the nip with his tongue. "Hungry, are we?" I asked, amused. "Always." He replied, teasing my nipples mercilessly. I laughed. "Then go to the door and ask the servant to bring us breakfast, ah, and stop biting me!"

With a parting bite to my hipbone, he did rise and go to the door to call for a servant. Amazing, that here in our bed, we were equals, and just simply Glorfindel and Turgon, not the King and Lord of the House of the Golden Flower.

My sated musings were interrupted by him bounding onto the bed in his classic, over-enthusiastic, the-morning-after style with a tray in his hands. I sat up, eager to see what he’d brought us, but he pushed me gently back down and pulled the blankets off me until I lay bare in the sunshine with him sitting next to me, the tray in his lap.

"What are you doing?" I wondered aloud.
He smirked at me, a most unsettling thing when he had all the and and I was hungry.
I narrowed my eyes as I tried to think ahead of him, and was entirely unprepared when he began laying fruit slices on my hipbones. I stared at him in confusion. "Just relax." He commanded, and I did so, waiting to see what he’d do next.

He decorated my ribs and nipples with more fruit slices, and then picked up a small pot of honey. "Hold still." He told me, and slightly aroused, I complied. He drizzled the honey from my shoulders to my knees, all over the fruit laid there. Then he set aside the honey pot and tray, and picked up a small piece of bread.

He stroked it over my skin where honey had pooled in the contours of my body, dipping it well. Then he took a bite and grinned at me, offering me the rest. I took it without moving, and he began with more bread. We shared the fruit the same way, before he undertook to lick all the stickiness from my skin.

I arched when he finally got around to taking my erect member in his mouth, shouting some, such was the point of desperation he’d driven me to with the food and his tongue. In a moment I hit head on with a climax so grand my vision darkened, and I felt the warm, wet mouth recede and creep up my body.

Panting, I looked down to see Turgon crouched next to me, a most definitely predatory gleam in his eye. I grabbed for him and missed, he rolled me onto my belly easily and began work with fingers and tongue on my back. When he finally reached my buttocks an eternity later, I spread my legs wide, gasping at the change of pressure on my renewed erection.

He laid his hands on my thighs and I was soon thrashing and wailing under the expert ministrations of his clever tongue. Withdrawing, he laughed at my discomfiture and sat me up, slicking my member as I clutched the bedding feverishly. Realizing he’d driven me into this frenzy to set himself up for a good hard pounding, I glared at him between gasping breaths, incapable of speech.

He caught the gleam in my eye and panting himself, turned onto his hands and knees. In the state I was in I’d have been a fool to refuse such an eloquent offer, and grabbing his hips with my hands drove into him deeply. He pushed back, seeking his own pleasure, and I gave up and slammed into him in abandon.

Feeling orgasm impending, I leaned down and bit into his shoulder, turning a scream of pleasure into a growl of intense delight. I passed out with the fire that ricocheted through my lower belly, and when I came to Turgon was leaning over me, chuckling breathily as he wiped hair from my face.

Regaining some of the air I’d lost forgetting to breathe, I laughed back at him. We were asleep before our breathing returned to normal.

Day like this, when we hid away in my house, were often the most pleasant of all, and our urges for occasional reforging our bond were often commenced here. Servants were less likely to interrupt us here, which is why the urgent knocking at the door alarmed me even as Turgon and I jerked awake.

"What is it?" I called.
Amredeth’s muffled voice answered. "My Lord, the Regent of the King sends for him, he has a messenger with an urgent message waiting in the palace." I looked at Turgon, he was beginning to get dressed. "Give us a moment to compose ourselves and we’ll be right there, Amredeth." I replied, reaching for a cloth to dampen and clean myself with.

Turgon answepswept into full dress speedily, which was a rather astonishing feat as we had kept one another awake nearly all night. I didn’t bother with the room any more than to simply close the door, and as I followed him through the streets to the palace, I wondered where I had gotten the habit to be so messy. Perhaps it was just him?

When we reached the King’s Hall, Meaglin was there, silently consing ang a boy in rough farming clothes, obviously from down in the valley. He was looking uneasily ar, an, and when Turgon swept in and I after him, he nearly fainted bowing so low. Turgon nodded acknowledgement of him, then turned to Meaglin. "What word?" He asked.

Meaglin answered without ceasing his dark brooding, lips the only mobile living thing on his features as he spoke, returning to stone when he had finished speaking. "Ask the boy." He replied mildly.

Turgon looked at the aforementioned boy and the child babbled out that thers a s a great eagle, Thoron-something, on Gladden Fields, and he insisted that Turgon come to him, for he bore dark news none other should receive first. Turgon paled, and was silent a moment, bracing himself.
"Bring me to him."

Meaglin and Idril and I followed at a distance as Turgon went down the stairs leading away from the walls, the child leading him wordlessly.

Thorondor was indeed there, waiting for Turgon. The boy went back to his family gathered outside their house and Idril held my hand as Turgon and Thorondor spoke quietly, alone. Meaglin stood a short distance from us, his gaze covering all.

Presently Thorondor alighted, his great wings bearing him away, and Turgon stood there a moment watching him go, before his knees crumpled under him and he fell to them, his face in his hands.

Idril and I flinched as if struck, and the impassive Meaglin looked on. Gathering my courage, I went to him, dragging Idril with me the full distance. We circled around to stand in front of him, and he did not look at either of us. Idril sank to her knees and thim him in her arms, and I dropped listlessly beside them. What tragedy had brought him to this?

I was afraid.
I reached out and laid my hand on his shoulder and he reached out for me and folded me against his chest, hiding his face in my long hair. Idril murmured soothingly to him, and over the next hour we coaxed from him Thorondor’s tidings.

His father; Fingolfingh Kgh King of the Elves, was dead.
Killed in single combat with Morgoth, protecting his lands and his kin. The battle was long, and Fingolfin wounded his enemy even unto his own death, but he lost in the end, crushed under Morgoth’s heel.

And as sorrowed as I was, Turgon’s sorrow was greater. I held him and wept with him, heedless of the heat of the day under the cold of sadness. Near noon Meaglin approached, even as Idril’s pained broken whispers of love and comfort began to buoy her father up from the depth of his grief.

I looked at him, and I fancied I might have seen kindness in his eyes. I told him in low tones of what had happened, and he looked stricken for a moment before his mask slipped into place again. I sent him for Ecthelion, and to spread the news among the Gondolindrim. He went, and I focused my efforts on my mate.

When Ecthelion arrived, his own eyes rimmed in red, Idril and I had gotten Turgon standing, and were leading him along toward the palace, toward Turgon’s haven of peace.

All of Gondolin was in mourning that day.
When Turgon sat unmoving and unspeaking in my arms in his darkened throne room that evening, a messenger came, saying that Thorondor was once again on Gladden Fields, and requesting audience with my King. I dismissed the man and waited.

After a time, Turgon’s sad gray eyes turned to me. "I must go to him." He grated out. I nodded, and standing with him and laying his arm across my shoulders, I supported him as we went, together.

We stood before the great bird, and Thorondor’s eyes were half-lidded and his wings drooped with sadness. Seeing that Turgon could not speak, I did for him, praying that the two kings would forgive my insolence. "My Lord Thorondor. We request that you grant us your speech." The eagle’s golden eyes swiveled to me, and he was silent, regarding me.

He finally deigned to speak. "Morgoth has broken the body, intending to feed it to his wolves. I have borne it up out of Angband and it now rests on the mountain top that looks from the north over Gondolin." And that as all he said, moving off a space before taking flight again.

When the buffeting from his great wings no longer blew our hair, I dared look at Turgon once more. "What do we do now?" I asked him softly.
His eyes met mine, and my heart broke for him anew. He replied simply "We bury him."

I took him up to the afore-mentioned summit, and the Gondolindrim followed after us. We laid a high cairn over the father of our king, as a gift and a labor of love and an expression of our own sorrow for him and with him. And when it was done we all went back down to our city, all those who had helped, some guiding those of us home who could no longer see for weeping.

And Turgon leaned heavily on me, and I bore his weight and took him to our bed in his house and laid him in it. He was as stilldeatdeath while I undressed him and laid the blankets as he liked, and when I joined him he turned instinctively into me for warmth.

I cried for myself as well as him that night, for I had no father or sister or brother or daughter as he had, and all that he was to me, his family was to me as well. And I feared that I might lose him as he had lost them, and that thought held too much darkness to bear, lest I go mad with despair.