The Flower and The Fountain

My Love to You, Forever
Summary: The Third Age has ended; the elves set sail for Valinor. For findfindel, he wonders if he’ll meet Ecthelion again on the shores of their birthplace. (Valinor)

If I could do it over
I do it all again
And if I got one more chance
I wouldn't change a thing

The white ship sailed swiftly over the clear, blue waters, carrying its immortal passengers over the waves and towards the far-off shores of their new home. For a small group of the travelers, this was more of a return journey to the place they had so long missed in their days on Middle-earth; for most, this was a never-ending quest to see the lands they had eve ever heard about in stories and tales. For one, this was a new beginning in a new life in an old home.

Glorfindel stood on the top deck of Círdan’s vessel, gazing out at the vast blue Sea that reminded him so much of all he had loved and lost during his previous lifetime. It was at water’s edge that he had met the other half of his heart, the vast lake of Lórien appearing as wondrous and mysterious as the Sea itself. It was at that very same lake that Glorfindel had shared many of his fondest memories with Ecthelion, memories he relived each day he felt hope leaving him. There were dark memories at the water’s edge as well, such as the slayings in Alqualondë that the golden-haired Elf would have rather forgotten than remembered.

So much had happened near, on and across the open seas that Glorfindel often wondered why it was so. In the end, he had always thought that it was because Ecthelion held a secret love for the waters, a love he shared with Glorfindel that had manifested itself into a different form. The blond had often felt more at ease near the bubbling Bruinen than inside the halls of Imladris before they had sailed, never quite knowing the reason why but never really questioning the fact either.

Reaching into his tunic, Glorfindel retrieved the pendant about his neck. The silver chain glittered brightly in the sun, untarnished by the years. The many tiny crystals that dotted the chain shimmered as the single teardrop stone seemed to collect the light and capture it within. Glorfindel smiled at the token as it twisted and swayed with the ship’s movement. Many a night it had brought him comfort; other times it brought him sadness, but he cherished it always. It was all he had left of the one who loved him, and whom he had given his heart to.

“I remember that pendant,” a voice said from behind Glorfindel. He turned to find Erestor smiling at him, stepping around to Glorfindel’s side and leaning his arms upon the ship’s railing. “I remember seeing you wearing that once,” Erestor continued, gazing out at the open waters. “I don’t remember when it was, but I saw you wearing it. Before then I saw Ecthelion with it. Even as a child I knew. I knew there was more between the two of you than you let most people see, that you would readily share with others. At the time, I didn’t know what it was, but as I grew older, I learned it’s name; it was love.” Slowly Erestor turned to his friend, raven hair swept from his eyes by the wind. “You’ve missed him all these years, haven’t you, mellon-nîn?”

Glorfindel sighed. “More than most can possibly imagine, meldir.”

“Then enlighten me.” The raven-haired Elf grinned as an elegant eyebrow was raised in question at his request. “I was but a child when I knew you and Ecthelion. Though my memories of the both of you are fond ones, there is little I know about you when you resided in Gondolin. Do not attempt to tell me you have not ced,”ed,” Erestor said quickly as Glorfindel opened his mouth to protest. “Traveling to and from Mandos’ Halls changes an Elf, Glorfindel. You have changed, so do not deny it. The Glorfindel I know is different from the one I remember. The one I remember is really nothing more than a legend from history books to me now. The one I know is a dear friend, who would not hesitate to ask or give help after what he has been through. I want the one I know to speak now and confess what is in his heart.”

The golden-haired Elf fell silent as he realized his companion was right. Glorfindel had changed since his return, subtly but still changed nonetheless. He was more somber, more filled with sadness than he had ever been. The days of the First Age were filled with despair, plight and terror, yet he had found ways to keep his cheer and always smile. Even in the more peaceful Third Age there was a lingering sadness about Glorfindel, one none failed to feel but most didn’t understand the reasons behind. For a long time he had searched for someone to share his heart with, someone who would understand his pain, who would listen and comfort him if need be. But he had found no one; those who understood him best were gone. Turning to stare into Erestor’s eyes, Glorfindel suddenly began to berate himself.

/I was searching for someone who felt the lose of Gondolin as much as I. I wasn’t searching for a lover; no one could have ever replaced Ecthelion. I was searching for a friend, a soul’s companion who knew my heartache and could listen when I needed someone to. And here he is. Elbereth, he was here the whole time! I had forgotten that Erestor was born in city before its fall. Perhaps…perhaps he may understand this void I feel./

“What is it you wish to know?”

Erestor ed, ed, layi com comforting hand upon his friend’s arm. “Tell me whatever it is you want to tell, mellon-nîn. I will listen. And remember, you need to let go of whatever pain and sadness you have been carrying all these years. You will never be happy in Valinor unless you do so now.”

The raven-haired Elf’s words were true; it was no wonder Elrond chose him as chief advisor. For a moment Glorfindel did not speak. Instead he watched the Sea pass by through the pendant. Taking a deep breath, he began. “I met him by pure accident.”

“Ecthelion?”

“Aye. I never intended to meet him, but we did. Ecthelion always said that it was the Valar’s doing, that they wanted us to meet. But when I asked him if he knew why, he only said ‘that is not for me to know; if I did know, then I would be one of the Valar and not a mere Elf sitting and speaking with you now.’ He used to explain things in such a manner when he had no real answer.
“Ecthelion always trusted the Valar, always placed his faith in them. He never questioned why things happened as they did. Even when we were children he always thought so.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Ecthelion?”

“What is it, Glorfindel?”

It was another fine day at Lórien’s lake for two close friends. The sun was high and warmed the pair, who, as was their usual custom, had spread themselves upon a deep blue blanket next to the water’s edge. Ecthelion laid upon his stomach in the middle of the sth ofh of cloth, immersed in the Ainulindalë he had borrowed from his grandfather, Rúmil; at intervals he would read the story of the world’s creation aloud so that Glorfindel could hear. The golden-haired Elf stretched out upon his back, his head pillowed in the dip of Ecthelion’s back. He would smile when Ecthelion read aloud, for Glorfindel enjoyed listening to his friend’s voice. Twenty years had they known each other thus far, and many more they hoped to share together.

“You always believe in the ways of the Valar, don’t you, Ecthelion?”

Gray-blue eyes stopped scanning thee bee before them, blinking once in surprise and confusion. Slowly Ecthelion turned to look over his shoulder at his friend, but Glorfindel’s eyes did not return his gaze as they continued to stare up at the sky. “Why do you ask?”

A shrug. “You always said that it was the Valar’s doing that we met when we did. And you always say that we don’t know what lies before us, but the Valar do and that we should trust them. I was just curious as to why.”

Marking his place, elioelion slowly closed the book and laid it before him. Crossing his arms, he leaned his chin upon his hands and began to speak. “My mother taught me to believe in the Valar. She speaks with Lady Vairë sometimes, did you know that? My mother enjoys the Valar’s company at times. She said that they were the ones who brought my father to her, that they brought my brother and I into the world. She’s always believed in them, and I suppose she instilled such thoughts into me
“A
“And you believe in them too?”

“Aye, I do.” Ecthelion shifted onto his back, noting that Glorfindel, as usual, didn’t move at the light jarring. The blond’s head was now cradled upon Ecthelion’s stomach, and he seemed happier in his new position with his softer headrest. The raven-haired Elf gently twisted a strand of golden hair about his finger whilst his other arm acted as a pillow for his head. “I believe the Valar allowed us to meet. For what purpose I do not know. But, then again, we are not to know the thoughts of the Valar until the time in which such thoughts are to be revealed to us.”

“But what if whatever they have planned for you is not something you would wish upon yourself?” Glorfindel countered.

“Such as?”

“Well…what if they deem something horrible is to happen to you? Something that takes away your freedom, your will? d yod you still believe hem hem after that?”

“If something so horrible were to happen to me, then I would hope that something better would present itself as a result. Horrible things can happen to good people, Glorfindel. But if they take it in stride, then something wonderful will reward them later.”

“Is that something else you believe?”

“Aye. You want to know what else I believe?”

Curious, Glorfindel propped himself upon his elbows and gazed deeply into Ecthelion’s eyes. “What’s that?”

“I believe that you are a wonderful person, meldir. I believe you will become strong and much loved in your lifetime. Anything that happens to you, good or evil, will be something you will make the best of. I wish I could say I see no evil in your future, but I am not a Vala nor do I have the gift of farsight. But I think that whatever happens, you will make the best of it and be happy.”

Glorfindel smiled, settling back down and resuming his watch of the sky. He sighed blissfully as he felt Ecthelion’s fingers gently combing through his hair. “I hope we will always be friends, Ecthelion.”

“So do I.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“He was right,” Erestor commented, brushing some wind swept hair from his face. “You were strong in Gondolin, and even now. And always much loved. You were--are--adored and admired. But, I must confess, there was a small flaw in his reasoning.”

“And what might that be?”

“You weren’t always happy. At least not lately. And by lately I mean since your return.”

Glorfindel sighed; again Erestor was right. He remembered days when the advisor‘s blunt accusations would annoy him for their truthful brutality, and other days where he thanked the Valar for having Erestor on his side rather than as an enemy. He wasn‘t quite sure which argument he preferred at the moment. “You can be far too observant sometimes, mellon-nîn.”

“It’s my job to be such, I’ll kindly have you remember,” Erestor replied with a slight huff. “Do not deny it, Glorfindel. You are not as cheerful as I once remember you to be.”

“I confess, I am not. But would you be after losing the only person who has ever held your heart?”

“I admit I would not. Now come, there is more to this story than you have told me so far. The pair of you went through many trials over the long years.” His voice failed aws hes he became lost in contemplation for a moment. “Tell me about Alqualondë.”“You“You know what happened at Alqualondë,” Glorfindel said with a slight shudder. The Kinslayings were one of the memories he dared not remember if he could help it.

“Yes, I know what the books and scrolls of Imladris say about Alqualondë, I know what I read in Gondolin as a child. But you were there, and Ecthelion was there. You saw what happened. Tell me how you felt then.”

“Is this really necessary?” He was hesitating, trying to resist sharing this part of his past for as long as possible. The hand on his arm squeezed gently, encouragingly.

“Trust me, mellon-nîn. I am only trying to help you after all.”

A slender hand combed idly through golden locks as Glorfindel released a slow, tormented sigh. He had to admit, he was starting to feel a bit better talking about Ecthelion. He had spent years in lonely silence, but now that Glorfindel had Erestor to talk to--to confide in--he felt a bit better. “Alqualondë,” he began, “is not a pleasant event to remember. I pray that the Teleri have forgiven us for what happened there.”

“You did not…did you?”

Glorfindel shook his head, understanding Erestor’s silent question. “Nay, I did not lift a hand against such fair people. I could not bring myself to do so, neither could Ecthelion. But we did see most of what transpired.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The shouting that was sounding fup aup ahead alerted them to something gone amiss. The host of Fingolfin, in confusion, turned to one another for an explanation, but none knew the answer to the questions that were murmured amongst them. Almost as one they rushed forward to see the cause of the commotion that was now beginning to sound louder in their ears.

There in Alqualondë they found a great battakitaking place between the Noldor and the Teleri. Some in the front of the march, believing the Teleri meant to keep the Noldor from seeking the Outer Lands, took up their swords and, led by Fingon, rushed to join Fëanor and his sons in their struggle. Many othersld nld not believe their eyes, and looked on in disbelief.

“This cannot be what we journeyed here for,” Egalmoth whispered unable to tear his eyes from the sight, though he approved of it not. “It cannot.”

Hearing the despair in his lover’s voice, Rog slipped an arm about his waist. Gently turning Egalmoth around, he enfolded him in a gentle embrace, soothing him with a soft voice and light touches, making sure, above all else, that the sight of the slayings could not reach Egalmoth’s eyes again.

“He is right,” Ecthelion whispered. “We did not come all this way, we did not ignore talaralar’s words to us, to be confronted with this. The Teleri are not in the wrong; we are. This should not have happened to the gentle, sea-faring people.”

“But we were refused the use of their ships!” someone shouted from behind. “Without them we cannot cross to the Outer Lands.”

“Aye, we were refused,” Rog replied. “But they are not ours for the taking. They are the crafts of the Teleri, their children in a manner. Shipbuilding is their craft and art, not ours. They had the right to refuse us. That did not give us the right to act so harshly and unjustly towards them.” Silence fell among the remaining host of Fingolfin, whose swords were sheathed and their hearts weeping for the fair Teleri.

In silence Glorfindel watched the scene before him, his heart bleeding at the sight. Many a time he had jourd tod to Alqualondë in the company of his father or that of Finrod, whose mother was kin to Olwë. They were a fair and kind people; their love of the Sea and the vassals of Ulmo was great. They had shared with Glorfindel a number of their fairest stories, telling him about Elu Thingol, who had been their first lord. At times they would allow him aboard their white ships, and smile as he delighted in the feel of the sea air upon his far. They were fair memories, now marred by the carnage occurring before him.

“Glorfindel?” Ecthelion looked troubled, not only because of the slayings that were happening, but also by the look of immense sadness upon his friend’s face.

“This should not have happened,” Glorfindel whispered, casting his eyes to the ground and trying in vain to drown out the noise that was beginning to subside. “They have done us no wrong.”

“I know, meldir.”

Glorfindel wanted to cry, wanted to bury his face into Ecthelion’s shoulder and weep for the falling of such fair people. He turned, wordlessly nestling his head against his friend’s neck. But he did not cry. Tears would not come though in his heart he wept for the Teleri. This would be a dark day from him, for them all. Those who had not dared to lift a hand against the sea-faring elves would be cursed with the Doom of the Noldor just as those who had. But the survivors of Alqualondë would remember who had stayed their hands, who had wept and given their sympathy. These they would forgive readily and hold forever in their hearts.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Ecthelion had a kinsman among the Teleri,” Glorfindel continued in a quiet voice. “In actuality, he had many kinsman for half of his family resided in Alqualondë. But I believe he was most fond of Telpëar.” A lump formed in his throat as he thought of the silver-haired Elf that had smiled at Glorfindel despite impending death. “I won’t ever forget that day.”

For a time after the telling of such a tale, neither Glorfindel nor Erestor spoke. One struggled to suppress the rise of emotions that threatened to claim him after so long; the other began to feel the pangs of regret for the actions of some of his ancestors, deeds he himself was not accountable for but which he still felt the sting of shame and regret.

“I’m sorry, mellon-nîn,” Erestor whispered. “I did not mean to stir such painful memories. Forgive me.”

“Nay, it is all right. You asked and I answered; there is nothing more than that. Besides, you are the one who said I needed to heal. You were right, I do need healing. And speaking of such occurrences in the past is helping.”

“Then I am glad for such brashness as I might have displayed earlier.”

Glorfindel smiled at Erestor, sighing as a warm breeze blew stronger than before. The sun suddenly felt warm, comforting, and the gentle rocking of the boat was soothing. He did indeed feel better. And he was ready to talk some more. “What else?”

“Hm? Sorry, I don’t follow.”

“What else would you like to hear?”

“Meldir, we do not have to continue.”

The blond shook his head. “Nay, I wish to.”

“All right then.” The wheels of Erestor’s mind began to whirl as he tried to think of a subject. He had spent many a day in the vast library of Imladris, reading about the events of the First Age and the Elves who played parts. He had known some of those elves in his youth, few of which whom lived to the Third Age. It was difficult to settle on any particular event. “Tell me about when Tuor came.”

“Tuor? Why hear about his arrival?”

“It is an interesting subject. I had always wished I had been present when he came before Lord Turgon, dressed in the armor and donning the sword that was said to be left behind in Nevrast. I always liked Eärendil’s father; he was always kind to my sisters and I. But I always found Tuor to be rather quiet, a little distant to others.”

“He wasn’t really. Quiet yes, but not really distant. He had his own ways, and his experiences molded him. He was a slave to the Easterlings for a time, did you know that?”

Erestor had the decency to look mildly surprised at the fact. “Nay, I did not. The scrolls and books failed to mention that.”

“Ah, that’s mostly because Tuor was not fond of such memories and wished that they not be recorded.” Glorfindel rested his chin upon his handshe the thought about his old friend. “There really isn’t that much to tell about Tuor. Most of what happened has already been recorded. Turgon found him intriguing from the start; after all, you don’t always have a young Man walking into your court, bearing the arms you left behind four hundred years ago and speaking as if one of the Vala possessed him.”

“What did you think of him when you first saw him?” Erestor asked.

Glorfindel gave an amused snort. “I thought ‘this Man is either incredibly brave, incredibly foolish or there is something more than the power of the Elves at work here.’”

“And Ecthelion?”

“Ecthelion was almost immediately taken with Tuor. His father, Huor, and Ecthelion had been great friends before, and Ecthelion was devastated when Huor fell at Nirnaeth Arnoediad.”

“I remember them, Ecthelion and Tuor, talking together and singing sometimes.”

A smile came to the golden-haired Elf’s face, one Erestor shared at such a fond memory. “Aye, they sang together. Tuor said that Ecthelion’s singing reminded him of Annael and the Elves who raised him. It was wonderful to hear them singing together. I’d spend hours in quiet hiding, hearing but not listening to what they were saying, just so I would hear them. Their voices were like music.”

“I’m surprised Ecthelion never encouraged you to sing, meldir.”

“And why do you say such?”

“Because I have heard you sing. You too were gifted with a wonderful voice. The twins used to beg you to sing them lullabies when they went to bed, do you remember?”

Glndelndel laughed as he remembered numerous nights, one twin tugging on each sleeve of his tunic and begging until they were almost in tears for him to sing them something--anything--before they drifted off to sleep. “Who says Ecthelion didn’t try? Held ald always say ‘sing for me whilst I play, Glorfindel; sing and let us forget the troubles of the past.’ I adored those times when the world would fade away and it would just be us.”

Erestor could hear the note of longing that reverberated in Glorfindel’s voice as the blond’s old memories resurfaced again. He stepped closer, almost stumbling as the ship crashed through a particularly large wave, and wrapped an arm about Glorfindel’s shoulders. “Can I tell you something, Glorfindel?”

“Of course.” He was mildly surprised at the request. Glorfindel had expected to be the storyteller as Erestor had insisted. But now the chief advisor was going to tell a tale, and he was rather curious to hear what was to be said. “Go on.”

“I visited the Cristhorn once after the fall and before Arda was reshaped.”

“You what?” Glorfindel openly stared at his friend. Never had he imagined Erestor would do such a thing. Yet he found himself wanting to know why, what brought about such a feat. Falling silent, he nodded once to allow the raven-haired Elf to continue.

“I never went all the way to Gondolin,” Erestor explained, “just to the path we used to escape. It had been a a h a hundred years or so. There was something I wanted to ask Thornbor, so I left one day.
“I didn’t tell anyone but my sisters where I was going. I left quickly and made for the Cristhorn silently. With Gondolin gone there wasn’t much need forrecyrecy, though Turgon’s laws still lingered in my heart. So I covered my tracks and made sure I wasn’t followed. I was amazed I could remember the way after so long, but I did.
“Thornbor was there as I had expected him to be, and he was waiting for me. When I asked him how he knew I was coming, he said one of the other Eagles had spotted me and informed him. He hadn’t moved from the same spot in years.”

“What spot was that?”

Erestor’s dark eyes gazed up at Glorfindel as he spoke his next words in a whisper. “Your spot, Glorfindel. Your stone cairn. Your resting place.”

“Mine?”

“Aye. Tuor had it built when Thornbor lifted you from the waters of the Thorn Sir.”

“The King of Eagles flew down and lifted me out of the stream. But why?”

“That is what I wished to know. I didn’t ask Thornbor right away. Instead I took a moment to gaze around at the place. It hadn’t changed much over the years. Except for your cairn; it had grown over green through the years, and little yellow flowers had sprouted around and upon it. Thornbor had guarded it all these years.
“He asked me why I had come, so I presented him with my question. He fixed his eyes on me and stared long and hard; I was under the distinct impression at the time that he was trying to look into my soul and judge me be gie giving me an answer. And then he spoke. Thornbor said that such beauty, grace and valor, such that you had possessed, was not worthy of a burial with a spawn of Morgoth; it deserved better. He held deep respect for you, mellon-nîn. He wanted to see you buried in a manner appropriate to your deed.”

The golden-haired Elf sighed, saddened by the story told. “I wish the same honor had been granted to Ecthelion.”

“But it was.”

“What do you mean?”

“I asked Thornbor, of all the Elves of Gondolin that had perished, why did he save you? Why did he not save the others? He asked me who I meant, I meI mentioned Ecthelion’s name. I think he smiled at me then, Glorfindel. Thornbor said that he had thought about reclaiming the Lord of Fountains’ body to place next to yours. But when he tried, Arien herself had pushed him away.”

“Arien?!” The surprise was more than evident upon Glorfindel’s face.

“Aye, the news surprised me as well. He said that Arien had been guarding Ecthelion’s body that still rested in the remaining waters of the King’s fountain. Thornbor said he watched for a full day and found her power to be great. She would shine a beam of sunlight upon his face during the day; at night the light would still be in his face, and would drive away any evil that should chance come to claim him.”

“I did not realize she would take it upon herself to do such a thing.”

“Nor did I. But he was safe, you were both safe from harm.”

“I should have gone to thank Thornbor. If only I had known.”

“But you did not, meldir. Do not blame yourself for things you were not aware of. Now then, tell me how you feel.”

Slowly azure eyes closed as Glorfindel searched the inner recesses of his heart. Where he should have found gray shadow and dim light, he found warmth. He felt calm and peaceful, like he had never been in the time since his rebirth. Opening his eyes again, he found Erestor smiling at him, and he returned the gesture genuinely. “I feel whole again. Not completely, there is still a piece missing. But I feel more alive than I have in years.”

“That is good to hear. Now look ahead. We have arrived.”

Look Glorfindel did, and his breath caught in his throat. Valinor had never seemed so beautiful to him before. The gleaming white sands of the shore, twinkled in the sunlight. There, many of the Teleri waited to anchor the ship and welcome home some old friends. Among them, Glorfindel could see, were Tuor and Idril; Eärendil was there too, for his voyage had some time before it was to begin anew for another night. Turgon was with them, with Egalmoth and Rog, and the other captains of Gondolin. And many others Glorfindel had long missed.

There was a thunderous sound upon the deck of the ship as Galadriel and Elrond nearly ran to see the figures upon the shore. Erestor giggled softly at seeing two of the most distinguished Elves he had ever known reduced to giddy children, happy to see their parents again. Glorfindel too smiled at the sight of his proud lord waving energetically at his father and grandparents. The rest of the sailing party came forward then, among them were Frodo and Bilbo. The elder Hobbit was looking much more alive now that they had arrived; Glorfindel likened the change to the restoration of youth granted by the Valar for the Hobbit’s faithful ring bearing through the years.

Swiftly, carried by the blessed current, the white ship of Círdan made it to the shore. With skill refined throughout the years, the Teleri held the ship fast to the shore and erected a gangplank for descent. First to step down was Elrond, who enthusiastically greeted his father and the grandparents he had never known before reuniting and making peace with his wife. Both had taken on other lovers during their separation and were now releasing the other of their marriage bonds. Next came Galadriel, overjoyed to see her brothers Finrod and Orodeth again, as well as her father Finarfin. Others descended and were greeted, among the last were Glorfindel, Erestor and the Hobbits.

“Egalmoth! Rog!”

“’Tis good to see you again, meldir!” Egalmoth exclaimed as he and Glorfindel shared a brotherly embrace. Rog, Penlod and Turgon looked on, smiling at the pair, taking their turns to greet their old friend when Glorfindel was released.

“We’ve been stuck here with nothing to do while you were having all the fun!” Turgon said good-naturedly.

Glorfindel laughed, playfully batting his former king and old friend over the shoulder. “You could have come and replaced me at any moment.”

“Certainly not! I said we had nothing to do, I did not say we were bored.”

“Hear hear!” Penlod cheered as the group began to laugh.

He had missed this, missed his old friends and comrades. Glorfindel had thought of them often while in Middle-earth, and had hoped to see them all again. Now that he was here with them aga again, it was almost too much to believe. Tears of sheer joy threatened to overwhelm him as Tuor and Idril approached, greeting and welcoming him. He had missed them all, but he still hadn’t seen the one he had missed the most.

“Ada!” Glorfindel’s eyes widened upon seeing the nearly identical Elf now standing before him as Tuor stepped aside. The golden-haired Elf had gotten most of his features from Glorion, his Vanya father, save for his eyes.

“Ion-nîn,” Glorion whispered, his voice nearly choking as he enfolded his son in a warm embrace, their identical spun gold hair mingling together and shining brightly in the sunlight. His green eyes welled with tears as he held his child, whom he had missed dearly over the years. Glorfindel was the same as he remembered him, and yet he was different. Glorion did not particularly care; his son was home, that was all that really mattered.

“I’ve missed you, Ada.”

“And I you, Glorfindel. ‘Tis good to see you home.”

“Nana? Where is she?”

“I am here, aier,” said a kind and motherly voice from behind Glorion. Estelien had a gentle face, framed by dark hair. A pair of deep blue eyes twinkled happily as she gazed upon the son she had not seen since his exile. “Glorfindel…”

Glorfindel could barely contain his tears as his mother embraced him. He held her tightly, burying his face in her hair as he remembered her lilac scent. How he had missed a mother’s touch! Glorfindel had stood by, watching as Celebrían sung her children to sleep, or comforted them when they cried. During those times he remembered his own mother, whom he had not seen for centuries. He wasn’t sure he would ever see her again, and yet here was Estelien right before his eyes, smiling at him just the same way she had done when he was a child.

“Glorfindel,” Estelien whispered. “My precious child.”

“I’ve missed you, Nana.”

“And we’ve missed you,” Glorion said, wrapping one arm around each of them and squeezing gently.

“I should not have left.”

“It was your path to follow. We would not have stopped you, though nor would we have followed.”

“Do you forgive me?”

“There is nothing to forgive, aier,” Estelien soothed, cupping Glorfindel’s face in her hands. “You did what you thought was right for you. We raised you to follow your heart and you did. There is no need to ask for forgiveness. Even if there were, there would still be no need to ask, for we will always forgive you. You are our son, and there is nothing in this world that will change that. We are proud of you, Glorfindel.”

“Nana…” He enfolded his mother in another embrace, touched deeply by her words. He willed himself not to cry, and smiled instead when he felt the arms of his father grow tighter about them. But there was something gnawing at Glorfindel’s heart, refusing to disappear unless he acknowledged it. Pulling away slowly, he turned to his parents. “Ecthelion? Where is he? Is he here?”

Glorion smiled upon seeing the look of fear and anticipation mingling in his son’s azure eyes. “He is here. He has been waiting for you for days…nay, for years.”

“Where…”

“Look before you, and you will find what you seek.”

The words were confusing to Glorfindel; nevertheless, he did as his father said and turned his eyo tho the shoreline directly before them. The white sands of the shores of Valinor stretched out before him, gleaming in the sunlight like diamonds and pearls. The sapphire blue waters of the Sea crested against the sand, attempting to reach further inland before being drawn back to the watery depths from which they came. It was a beautiful picture, Glorfindel noted, but he didn’t understand what it all meant.

Then he knew. For a moment he believed his eyes to be deceived, a trick of the sun; blinking he looked again. And then he saw. Making its way towards them was a lone figure strolling slowly through the white sands. Raven hair was tossed by the gentle sea breeze, swirling about a fair face and shoulders. The lean, tall form was encased in a tunic of silver, the slender legs by a pair of deep blue, nearly black leggings. Bare was the feet that walked upon the sands, and clear were the eyes that gazed upwards and met Glorfindel’s. They were gray-blue, the color of the Sea at late evening and early dawn, or when a storm was brewing. Eyes the golden-haired Elf never thought he would see again.

“Go to him, Glorfindel,” Glorion whispered, releasing his hold on his son.

“Ada…”

“Go. Don’t keep him waiting any longer.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Giving his father a quick embrace, Glorfindel set off, first walking down the beach line, then running. There were no words to express how he felt as he drew closer to his heart’s desire. He forgot everythirounround him, forgot everyone. All he saw was one person, all he felt was the wind rushing past him as he ran faster, scattering handfuls of sand in his wake.

And then he was there. Tears were in his eyes as he threw himself against Ecthelion; the force of his movement tipped them off balance, causing them to fall back into the sand. Glorfindel didn’t care as he buried his face into the silver silken tunic and released the flood of tears he had been holding back as gentle arms wrapped about him and slender fingers found their way into his hair. VaniVanimaer…”

“Malthener, I’ve missed you,” Ecthelion whispered unable to hold his own tears in check.

“Don’t ever leave me again.”

“Never. Never again.”

For a time, the reunited lovers forgot they were not alone on the beach. They did not see nor hear the others who began to gather around them. When Egalmoth and Turgon attempted to gently pry Glorfindel off of Ecthelion, the golden-haired Elf refused and held on tighter. He was afraid to let go, afraid to wake up and realize he was back in his bedchambers in Imladris and everything had been a dream. Glorfindel felt grounded holding onto the warm body of his lover, and wasn’t going to let go for any reason. Except…

“Glorfindel,” Ecthelion’s voice gently cooed in his ear. “Glorfindel, if you don’t let go then we are never going to get married.”

“Wha…” Tear filled azure eyes suddenly widened as the golden head snapped up to stare at the Elf lying underneath him. “We are going to what?”

“Get married you insane Elf!” Rog shouted in exasperation, pushing aside his lover and Turgon so that he could bodily haul a stunned Glorfindel to his feet. He opened his left hand, and revealed two rings nestled in his palm as they shimmered in the sunlight. “I’ve been holding onto to these for far too long. I was almost tempted to ask the Valar to let me go to Middle-earth so I can drag you back for your wedding. Well, I don’t know about Ecthelion, but I’ve waited long enough! I feel awkward holding onto two wedding rings when my own marriage was ages ago.”

“You’re married?! Valar, what else did I miss?” Glorfindel looked around at all of his old friends, wondering at the secrets they’ve been hiding. Egalmoth looked positively embarrassed at revealing his past nuptials to his friend in such a manner, and bashfully hid his right hand with its gold ring behind hack.ack. Glorfindel opened his mouth, but with a firm hand on his arm, Turgon silenced the unasked questions.

“Those details can wait until later, meldir,” the former King of Gondolin said gently. “Now kindly calm yourself so I can perform the duties I should have done centuries ago.” He motioned the whole of the elven procession upon the beach to move closer as Glorfindel stared incredulously at Ecthelion, who only smiled as Glorfindel’s parents took the lovers’ hands, joined them and blessed the pair. He continued to gaze at the golden-haired Elf with pure love as Turgon spoke the words they had waited far too long to hear.

“I have watched the pair of you through the years,” Turgon said, trying not to let the tremble sound in his voice. “Never have I seen two more in love than you. You both deserve this union, the final seal to the love in your hearts.” He smiled brightly at them both before motioning with his hand.

Estelien stepped forward, cupping Ecthelion’s face in her hands and smiling at him. “Ecthelion, you have been like a second son to Glorion and I. I wish your own mother could be here for this day; she would have been so happy. Though I am not she, I know what she would say to you.” Gently Estelien took him into her embrace and kissed his brow. “Be happy, always. Your union is blessed, more than you know.”

“Hannon le,” Ecthelion whispered in return, at a loss for words. He smiled as she pulled away before turning his eyes to Glorion, who approached his son.

“My dearest Glorfindel,” Glorion began, taking Glorfindel’s free hand in both of his. “You have more than proven yourself during your lifetime. I could never be more proud of you. I have had the honor of being your parent twice, by the grace of the Valar. You are a worthy son, a worthy warrior, and you deserve the love you are being given. Cherish it, though I have no doubt you will do otherwise.”

“Ada…” Glorfindel pulled his father into a warm embrace before pulling away as Turgon cleared his throat. Still a little shocked by the proceedings, he slowly turned to Ecthelion, who smiled at him before speaking.

“I have loved you almost since the day we met,” the raven-haired Elf said. “Perhaps even before then, though I do not know how that might be possible. I’ve questioned your love for me in the past, but there was never any need. You were always faithful to me. I never wanted to be separated from you, but fate had other ideas. And so I spent centuries without your company, having nothing but my memories to keep me company. But here you are now, and I never want to feel that separation again.” Ecthelion locked gazes with Glorfindel and smiled lovingly. “I love you, Glorfindel. I give myself to your freely, to have my heart and do with it as you will. I am yours, in every sense of the word.”

Glorfindel blinked to keep the tears from his eyes as Ecthelion took a ring from Rog, slipping it onto his right index finger. He realized suddenly that it was his turn to speak despite having not prepared anything for this moment. He spoke the first words that came to him. “I never thought this day would come. Sometimes I thought that what we had together was too good to be true, that it would end and we would never get it back. I thought I had been right all these years, but I hoped otherwise. I still can’t tell if I’m dreaming or not, but I hope not.” Glorfindel raised a hand, gently cupping Ecthelion’s cheek, feeling the silken hair brush against his fingers. “I take your heart that you have offered to me, and in return I give you mine. If you will have it.”

“I will,” Ecthelion replied as Glorfindel slipped the other ring upon his finger.

“Then,” Turgon said with a smile, “as if my honor, I pronounce these two joined under the eyes of the Valar.” But Glorfindel and Ecthelion didn’t hear them as they were already sharing a kiss, their first kiss in their new life.

~~~~~~~~~~

“I can’t believe we are married!”

Ecthelion couldn’t help but giggle softly as he watched his new husband. Glorfindel hadn’t changed at all in all the time they had been apart. The golden-haired Elf was still as mesmerizing as the day they met, still charming and beautiful. Ecthelion watched his closely as Glorfindel examined the new wedding band encircling his right index finger. The ring glittered in the rising moonlight, the gold and silver twisted together in a fashion that revealed a sacred and lasting love. Their rings were a special set which Rog had created himself and were unlike the normal bands, such as the ones he and Egalmoth wore. The former Lord of the Hammer had insisted that his dearest friends receive something special and would hear no protests.

“I’m half afraid that this is all a dream,” Glorfindel whispered interrupting Ecthelion‘s thoughts; his eyes never left the ring upon his finger. “I was afraid on the beach, and I’m still afraid now.”

“Don’t be,” Ecthelion soothed, stepping closer. He pressed himself against Glorfindel’s back, his left arm twining around the narrow waist as the fingers of his right hand laced with the blond’s. Their rings made a faint tinkling sound as they came together. “This isn’t a dream,” the raven-haired Elf said after placing a loving kiss upon the golden locks. “I’m here, now and with you. Can’t you feel me, malthener? Can’t you feel my love for you?”

“I feel it, and it lightens my soul. I’ve grieved far too long for our love. I once thought we’d never see each other again, and wondered how I would spend the rest of my life without you.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Glorfindel?” Elrond gently pushed open the door to his new seneschal’s bedchamber, his cloak trailing behind him. The room was dark and barely furnished; Glorfindel had only just recently arrived from Valinor at the Valar’s bidding. No candle was lit, plunging the room into dark shadow as it had been late into the night. His belongings were few as he had traveled light; though his body was young in age, there was great wisdom, strength and courage hidden in the azure depths of his eyes.

It still amazed Elrond somewhat that this beautiful creature knew what death was like, that Glorfindel knew the cold of Mandos’ Halls. Mostly it was amazing that he was the same elf Elrond’s father had spoken so fondly of. Yet the golden-haired beauty seemed different from the stories that spoke of him, though it was unclear why. “Glorfindel? Are you in here?”

A shuffle from the foot of the bed told Elrond where the other Elf was seated. Soundlessly the Peredhel ventured over, and was both startled and amazed by the sight before him. On the floor sat Glorfindel, golden hair loose and framing his face in merimering waves as it fell over his shoulders. His knees were drawn up to his chest, his chin resting upon them as his arms wrapped about his slender legs. Moonlight was spilling in through an open window, illuminating the fair Elf whose face was a mixture of immense sadness and longing.

Worrying for his friend, Elrond sank down to his knees, tilting his head slightly to get a better look at Glorfindel’s face. “Meldir, what troubles you so this night?”

“’Tis nothing, Lord Elrond,” Glorfindel whispered in return, his voice hitching slightly and betraying his true emotions.

“There is no need to call me lord, Glorfindel. You may have been assigned to be my seneschal, but I would rather we be on friendly terms than formal.”

“As you wish, Elrond.”

“Then,” Elrond pressed, “as a friend, tell me what is troubling you. I wish to help you if I can.”

“You can’t help me. No one can.”

The Peredhel’s heart nearly broke at hearing the despair trembling in the lovely creature’s voice. Glorfindel was of a fair beauty that should have never been touched by grief and sadness; to see him in such a state seemed wrong to Elrond. “Glorfindel, please. Tell me.” He laid a gentle hand upon Glorfindel’s shoulder in a comforting gesture. But it was enough to release the emotional flood that had been building inside the blond.

Before Elrond realized what was happening, silvery tears were spilling over Glorfindel’s cheeks, his azure eyes brimming with more of them. “Glorfindel, don’t,” Elrond pleaded as he enfolded the weeping Elf into his arms. “Please don’t.”

“I remember it all,” Glorfindel said through his tears. “I remember it all and yet I don’t want to remember it.” He paused a moment as his tears overwhelmed him; his voice trembled even more the next time he spoke. “I can’t forget it. The screams, the battles, I can’t forget. So many of my friends, my people, they all fell that day. They fell in Gondolin. And I couldn’t help them; I couldn’t help anybody. I died that day. Everything was in vain.” Glorfindel, succumbing to the torrent of tears, buried his face into Elrond’s shoulder and sobbed.


“No, Glorfindel,” the Peredhel gently soothed whilst stroking the golden hair. “You didn’t fail. You protected so many that day. I’m living proof of your valor. You saved my father, and in doing so you saved me. You didn’t fail, Glorfindel.”

“But I did! I couldn’t save them. I couldn’t save *him*.”

Elrond knew who was being spoken of; he had been told of this Elf by his father, whom loved him dearly. “Ecthelion’s death was not your fault.” His heart wrenched, almost painfully, at the choked sob Glorfindel issued at his lover’s name. “He loved you, Glorfindel. He wanted you safe and happy.”

“I can’t be happy, not truly happy, without him.”

“I know, mellon-nîn. But try, for his sake if not yours. Try for Ecthelion.” He smiled when Glorfindel gave a small nod, though the tears continued. Elrond spent the night holding and comforting his friend; even when Glorfindel had fallen into a deep sleep, he continued to hold him. It was a process Elrond would repeat for some time, but he didn’t seem to mind. He only prayed to the Valar that Glorfindel would be released from this grief and pain soon.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Ecthelion?” The raven-haired Elf had fallen silent and still during Glorfindel’s narration. Turning, he started into Ecthelion’s eyes, and found immense sadness there. Reaching out, he cupped a smooth cheek in one hand. “Ecthelion? Vanimaer? Speak to me.”

“I’m sorry,” Ecthelion whispered, unable to meet Glorfindel’s gaze. “I wanted you safe. But I didn’t realize I would cause you so much pain with my actions. If only things had been different. If only…” Gray-blue eyes slipped closed as tears began to spill from dark lashes.

“Vanimaer…” Glorfindel buried his love into his arms, holding him tightly as they both released their tears. For centuries they each held on to so much sadness and pain; now that they were reunited, they could finally let go of their pain, but it wasn’t as easy as they had thought. But they would recover in time. “We can start over again,” Glorfindel whispered.

Ecthelion nodded, pressing his face against the smooth curve of his lover’s neck. “Yes, we can start all over again.” He lifted his head to look into the azure eyes he had almost forgotten. “I’ve missed you. I’ve lost count of how many times I dreamed of this day only to awaken and fall asleep again whilst weeping in your mother’s arms.”

“My mother cared for you all these years?”

“Aye, ever since my rebirth.” Ecthelion fell silent a moment, recalling past memories of his new life. “My new life hasn’t been like yours, or even the others. You were all born again, given new bodies, some even with new parents. I was different.”

“How so?” Glorfindel asked, leading them away from their balcony perch to sit upon the bed in the darkened room they were to share for the rest of eternity.

“You know the laws of Mandos, melme. When a fëa is given a new chance at life by Mandos, there are one of two ways they can return to the living. The fëa can either reclaim their old body so long as it remains relatively unharmed during the passage of time; normally, a fëa is given a new body through the birth of a child.
“You, Rog, Egalmoth, all the others were reborn in ever sense of the word. You became children again, for a time, and some of you were born to the same parents; Rog, Penlod and Duilin received new parents since theirs had already passed before them. You all lived again, experienced what it was like to be children a second time. I was not given that chance.”

“Vanimaer?”

“Do you know what happened to my body, Glorfindel?”

The golden-haired Elf sat quietly for a moment, recalling Erestor’s words on the ship to his mind. “Erestor said he was told by Thornbor that your body was still in the fountain at the King’s Square, and that Arien had taken it upon herself to watch over you.”

“’Tis true as I was told. Ulmo enchanted the remaining waters of the fountain to heal the wounds I had been inflicted and to preserve my face and body. Which is why I never received a second childhood.”

“Ecthelion, what are you saying?”

“This body, Glorfindel,” Ecthelion said, his voice quaking a touch as he raised his hands so they could both see the smooth, pale palms clearly. “I was reborn in the same body, with all my memories in tack. I learned that before Arda was reshaped, Ulmo raised the waters and bore my body away from the fountain. Uinen took over preserving my body, and when Mandos deemed it right, I was placed upon the shores of Valinor and there my fëa found my body.
“I awoke to pain and fear with the sound of the sea in my ears and on my lips, never knowing the second innocence of rebirth. For days I relived my death each time I laid my head down to sleep. Whatever pain and sadness your memories caused, mine was ten fold.”

Glorfindel pulled his lover closer, embracing him tightly. Never in all his days had he thought Ecthelion would had been experiencing so much grief. /I never wanted you to feel this way. I always wanted you happy, but I never knew you were suffering so./

“But it was worse not knowing what had become of you after I had passed,” Ecthelion continued, eagerly taking in Glorfindel’s presence as he pressed closer. “I pleaded with Manwë to tell me, imploring him to help me seek answers. For months he refused, telling me I was not rea ready.
“After a year, he felt pity for me and sent me to Vairë to learn my answers. In silence she led me to the tapestries she had weaved, and then I knew. I saw your fall, I even heard your thoughts. And when I asked what had happened to you afterwards, my heart nearly broke hearing you had returned to Middle-earth.”

“Why? Why would that distress you so, melethron? I was alive, I was safe.”

“But for how long?”

Glorfindel had no answer for Ecthelion’s fears were quite clear to him by now. Ecthelion’s momentary relief at knowing he had been reborn had instantly turned into fear knowing Glorfindel had returned to Middle-earth, to the heart of the danger. The knowledge frightened him, and the fear had kept a firm grip over the raven-haired Elf’s heart. He had thought he had suffered not knowing whether or not Ecthelion had been given a second chance at life. He soon discovered, however, that it was far worse knowing your greatest wish and fear had mingled together.

“I’m so sorry, vanimaer,” he whispered into the silken hair. “I never realized how much pain you were experiencing. But I swear I’m never leaving you again. I couldn’t bear to be apart from you any longer.”

“Just stay with me, please?”

“Always, vanimaer. We are wed now; nothing will ever separate us again.”

Ecthelion smiled as he felt a warm hand cup his chin and tilted his head back. Loving faint kisses caressed his closed eyes and lashes, cleansing them of the tears that had been spilled. “I’ve missed you, malthener,” he whispered feeling the brush of lips against his own.

“And I you, vanimaer,” Glorfindel returned before claiming the lips he had so dearly missed. He took his time, re-exploring and remembering the warmth of his lover, the hidden crevices of Ecthelion’s mouth and the softness of his lips. He began to feel a stirring inside him, a desire to feel more; giving in to the feeling, Glorfindel pressed against his husband until they were both lying back on the bed, breathless from their kiss and having eyes only for one another.

“I want to feel you,” Ecthelion whispered. “Help me remember your touch.”

“Anything you wish, melethron.” They shared another kiss before Glorfindel broke away to explore the smooth curve of Ecthelion’s neck whilst slowly divesting them of both of their clothes.

Tunics, leggings and boots were thrown into a careless heap on the floor; eager fingers brushed against arousal flushed skin and through satiny hair to undo the braids tangled in the silk. Ecthelion pulled on Glorfindel’s arms until the blond was covering him; he sighed in bliss at the feeling of their skin contacting after so many centuries. He turned his head aside as he felt a nuzzle against his earlobe, hissing slightly as he felt the tip being nipped. Wrapping his arms around Glorfindel’s neck, Ecthelion twined their legs together, causing their members to stiffen even more as they brushed together and the pair to moan.

The sensation of feeling this much loved person beneath his hands again was mind-blowing, causing Glorfindel to crush the idea of just taking Ecthelion right now. He wanted it slow, and he knew his lover did also. They were bonded in every sense of the word; what use was there to rush anymore? Their whole lives had been one big hurry since their rebirth, a hurry to be reunited and released from the pain. No more; they didn’t have to rush anymore.

Beginning to explore plains and plateaus untouched in years, Glorfindel began to remember parts of his lover’s body he had loved to touch and tease. There was the dip in Ecthelion’s throat, the hollow nestled just between and above the collarbones, his favorite place to kiss. The ear tips, half-hidden by the dark hair, that seemed more sensitive than anyone else’s; Glorfindel gave another light nip to one and smiled as Ecthelion shuttered beneath him.

“Saes…” Ecthelion moaned, arching his back in order to press more of his body against his lover’s.

“Wait, vanimaer,” Glorfindel soothed, gently rubbing his sides, a caress that always seemed to calm his fair one. “Relax and wait.”

“I don’t…know…if I…can,” the raven-haired Elf gasped out between shallow pants.

“For me, melme. For me.”

Ecthelion nodded slowly as he took a deep breath, his body visibly relaxing though he was still very much aroused. His pink swollen lips parted as he felt them being kissed again, a gently probing tongue slipping between them to seek out his own. Ecthelion complied, pressthe the tip of his tongue to the other before they both began and slow and sensual dance in time with their bodies.

“That’s it,” Glorfindel whispered as they parted. “Slow and easy. Is that what you want?”

Ecthelion nodded slowly. “Aye, I want that. But I need tel yel you. I need *you*.”

“You already have me, do not worry about that.” He dipped his head, golden hair spilling over his shoulders and across Ecthelion’s chest, as Glorfindel tenderly kissed the hollow of his lover’s throat. He sucked lightly at the skin, causing it to redden. It was a mark, his mark, one he had made many times in the past. This was his Ecthelion; in no way would he share. Not in the past, not now. Especially not now. “Vanimaer…” His breath cooled the moist patch of skin he had just kissed, causing a faint tremble to run through the body beneath him. “Ecthelion, I don’t…”

Understanding instantly, Ecthelion shifted out of the circle of Glorfindel’s arms for a moment to reach into a drawer of the nightstand nearby. He fumbled for only a moment before removing a vial of golden-toned oil. Smiling smugly, Ecthelion handed the oil to Glorfindel before lying back. Gray-blue eyes fluttered closed as he waited, his breathing coming out in measured, even sighs though his pulse had quickened again.

Shaking his head and grinning at his lover’s thoughtfulness, Glorfindel pulled off the stopper, inhaling deeply the scent of rosewood with a hint of white blossom. He stared down at Ecthelion, waiting until the other opened one eye to see what was taking so long. “You remembered,” Glorfindel whispered.

“How could I not? It always was your favorite type of oil to use.” Closing his eye again, Ecthelion sighed and ghosted his fingers over Glorfindel’s hip to urge the other on.

He took the hint, pouring a generous amount of oil onto his palm before putting the vial away. Glorfindel pressed his hands together in an effort to both warm and spread with hands with the slick liquid; he inhaled deeply as the light scent began to fill the room. Taking one of Ecthelion’s hands, he pressed it to his own, also coating his lover’s hand with the oil. Glorfindel moved their hands, cupping his erection between their slick fingers; he had to bite down on his lower lip to keep from groaning too loud at the sensation.

Moving his hand slower, Ecthelion both pleasured and prepared his lover, opening his eyes again to take in the sight. Obediently he lifted his hips, his breath leaving in a hiss of delight when he felt Glorfindel’s slick, probing fingers massage his entrance. His hand tightened slightly around his husband’s member as a finger wiggled in and twisted about to coat the puckered hole with the oil. Ecthelion relaxed his body as another finger slipped in to join the first, then a third. Glorfindel was taking his time, he noted. The raven-haired elf couldn’t help but smile; after so many years, his lover still thought of Ecthelion’s welfare when they made love.

“Enough, malthener,” Ecthelion whispered, his other hand cupping the back of the golden head and bringing Glorfindel closer. “’Tis enough, melethron. I am ready.” He silenced Glorfindel’s concerns with a kiss, tugging on the other’s wrist to withdraw the fingers from his body. “Take me now, please.”

“Anything for you.” Glorfindel delivered him another kiss before wrapping his arms around Ecthelion’s shoulders, bringing their bodies together and his arousal in contact with his lover’s entrance. He kissed the dark temple before him whilst pressing inwards. Slowly he breached the guardian ring and inched himself inside until he was fully sheathed. The body in his arms trembled, and he held Ecthelion closer as he slid out and pressed back in quicker than before. There came a hiss in his ear, and Glorfindel knew he had found the right angle.

A hand wrapped around Glorfindel’s, the fingers entwining with his and squeezing once before moving them both between the joined bodies. He allowed Ecthelion to guide him to the raven-haired Elf’s straining erection, trapped between their bodies. Measuring each thrust with the stroking of his hand upon the heated column, Glorfindel managed to bring both himself and Ecthelion the maximum amount of pleasure possible.

Beneath him, Ecthelion was completely helpless, lost and abandoned in the realm of need, want and sensation. He resisted the building tension within him, wanting this joining to last as long as he could hold out. But his resolve was slowly fading, and in the end he gave in. Arching his back, a deep moan sounded from Ecthelion’s lips as he came, spilling creamy seed over Glorfindel’s hand.

As his lover came, Glorfindel thrust in once more before he felt muscles clenching around his erection. Thus he came, coating his lover’s inner walls with his warm seed. He rode the last waves of his orgasm out before slowly withdrawing from Ecthelion’s body. Kissing his husband, Glorfindel silenced the small whimper of protest as he blindly sought for something to clean them off. Encountering a discarded towel on the floor, he quickly cleaned off his hand before gently attending to his lover. Cleaned of the evidence of this passion, Glorfindel carelessly tossed the cloth aside and drew up the sheets before taking Ecthelion into his arms again.

“Vanima,” Ecthelion whispered through a sleepy haze as he snuggled closer to the warmth encircling him.

Glorfindel smiled, planting a loving kiss against the dark crown. His right hand sought out Ecthelion’s, twining the fingers and bringing their identical rings together. His other arm snaked about the slender shoulders, pulling them closer together. Glorfindel tucked Ecthelion’s head beneath his chin and sighed deeply in contentment as they both drifted off into sleep, their eyes vacant but their faces full of happiness.

They had each other back again. The golden flower and his fountain, they had found their way back to one another. Together they would stay. Together, forever. Ilyamenie.

~END~