Something Special, Something Sacred

Imladris, Third Age 2038

The night was clear and bright; Ithil hung pregnant in the sky. In one of the remote gardens populated with honeysuckle, roses, orange blossoms and jasmine, those dear to Imladris' Seneschal and Chief Councilor gathered quietly.

Elrond stood to one side of the arbor the twins had erected, and his wife stood to the other. Elladan, having long ago lain to rest the differences between himself and Glorfindel, was tall and proud by his mother's side while Elrohir remained quiet and reserved beside his father. Standing several feet from the arbor were Celeborn and his Lady with Haldir standing beside the Lórien Lord, his mithril collar glinting in the moonlight.

The only other attendant, who Elrond had been a little uncertain of, was Lindir. The minstrel, who had once submitted to Erestor, sat on a low bench to the side of the clearing, strumming his harp softly. It was a magical night, thought the Lord of Imladris, and one could not ask for a more perfect setting for such a union as this.

From the shadows to the left of the group stepped the dark Elf, only this night, Erestor shone vividly among the foliage. His dark hair was loose and tiny rubies sparkled in the long, black tresses. Elrohir had woven the gems into the raven hair himself, and the fiery winking of those jewels gave Erestor's hair a reddish tint.

He wore long crimson robes, decorated elaborately with silver threads and garnets of varying shapes and size. His under tunic and shirt were lighter shades of red and his collar was decorated with carnelian along its hem. Even his lips had been tinted vermilion with Celebrían's rouge, and tiny chips of the pinkish rubellite had been pasted beside his left eye in an elaborate sunburst pattern, orange paint having been used to create vines and rays like the sun. Erestor's eyes, usually dark and cold, were shining with warmth and excitement. To his loved ones, as he approached the arbor, he embodied all the heat and radiance of Anor in the afternoon sky.

Elrond had given him a binding gift that morning, and Erestor wore it proudly. A thin line of mithril snaked across his forehead, dipping down between his brows. In the center was a most magnificent gem; blazing red amid the pale expanse of Erestor's skin was a large ruby, the white, ghostly naturally formed starburst vivid in the heart of the flaming stone.

From the right, the golden Elf of Gondolin appeared, his head held high and his hair plaited in a long-forgotten fashion. Gold ribbons had been woven into the braids, and his hair shimmered in multi-faceted ropes of gold. He was not dressed in robes, though.

Glorfindel's legs were clad in charcoal grey leggings that clung to his well-shaped thighs. Boots, matte black, covered his calves, ending just below his knees, and his sword hung low on his waist. He wore a long tunic in forest green that was embroidered in tiny yellow flowers, all of which sparkled in the white light of Ithil, for heliodor had been sewn into the small buds. His cloak was of legend -- green as the grass he walked on, but sprinkled with the citrine gems, it looked like a field of green on which the fabled celandine grew.

And upon his head was an intricately woven crown of gold; carefully wrought flowers with emeralds as leaves spread across his noble brow. His symbol as the Chief of the House of the Golden Flower -- an honor he still held close to his heart.

A field of spring with the sun beside it, that was what Glorfindel and Erestor reminded everyone gathered as they stood side by side under the arbor of honeysuckle, looking into one another's eyes.

Elrond took Erestor's left hand in his and Celebrían took Glorfindel's right. They joined the two Elves' hands, a smile playing on the elder couple's lips. Celebrían stepped back, folding her hands before her, and called out, "We call upon Varda to bear witness to this joining!" She then joined her son again, her pale blue eyes dancing with quiet mirth.

"We call upon Manwë to bear witness to this joining!" Elrond said, his voice deep and commanding, and he joined his younger son a few steps from the couple.

In perfect harmony, Erestor's resonating baritone and Glorfindel's powerful tenor called forth Eru to bear witness to their joining. In the laws of the Elves, Eru's name was not often invoked, but in such an important union as a marriage, the Creator's blessing was desired.

With only Lindir's harp breaking the silence of the small garden, Erestor slipped the silver ring from his finger and placed it in the palm of Glorfindel's outstretched hand, and received back the one matching ring Glorfindel had worn for almost two years. Glorfindel then produced a slender gold ring, simple and untarnished, and slid it slowly onto the index finger of Erestor's right hand, a smile tugging at his full lips as he gazed into his beloved's eyes.

With tears shining in his eyes, Erestor slipped a similar gold ring onto the index finger of Glorfindel's right hand, willing his hands not to shake as he released his lover's hand.

The stars twinkled brilliantly in the black cloth of the sky, and Ithil seemed to smile upon the small party of Elves celebrating love and life. Erestor lifted his dark eyes to the sky and parted his ruby lips, lifting his voice in song.

" When you are sad, I will dry your tears. When you are scared, I will comfort your fears. When you are worried, I will give you hope. When you are confused, I will help you cope. And when you are lost, and can't see the light, I will be your beacon, shining ever so bright." Erestor lowered his eyes, capturing Glorfindel's glittering gaze with his own, his song slowing and his voice softening. "This is my oath; I pledge to the end. Why you may ask? Because you are my lover and friend."

A tear slipped down Glorfindel's cheek as Erestor's voice faded, and he thought his heart would burst. Instead, his sung his own vows, his own oath to the mate of his soul. "I cannot promise you a life of sunshine; I cannot promise riches, wealth, or gold; I cannot promise you an easy pathway, that leads away from change or growing old." He cupped Erestor's pale cheek, lightly running his thumb over the gemstone starburst beside his eye. "But I can promise all my heart's devotion; a smile to chase away your tears of sorrow; a love that is ever true and ever growing; a hand to hold in yours through each tomorrow."

Erestor leaned forward, closing his eyes as his lips touched Glorfindel's, and they kissed deeply before their friends and those they considered family. When the small group began to clap, Erestor laughed and drew away from his mate, grasping the Elda 's hand tightly in his own. "I love you, Glorfindel."

Glorfindel's smile was wide and unabashedly proud. "And I love you, too, Erestor."

With their ceremony complete, they received the well wishes and tokens of love from everyone. The night was old, though, and Erestor kindly bid Celeborn, Galadriel, Haldir and Lindir good night and looked to Elrond. There was still a small, very private ritual that Erestor wished to begin as soon as possible. They bowed to the Lord and Lady of Lórien and, hand in hand, exited the hidden garden.

*****

Slightly nervous, Erestor entered the room, bare as the day he came from his mother's womb. The lamps were light, driving all shadows from their bedchamber. Elrond stood next to Glorfindel on Erestor's bedside while Celebrían, Elladan and Elrohir sat nearby on a small sofa.

Erestor had braided his hair, pinning it up at the nape of his neck, and he padded softly to the bed. He suppressed his urge to cover himself under the intense gaze of the occupants of the room, but he could not stop the blush from creeping across his pale features.

Glorfindel watched Erestor lay on his stomach on the bed in front of him, his well-shaped backside creamy and flawless in the lamplight. Just before the crevice that split is buttocks rested a dark mark -- Elrond's house symbol from millennia before when Erestor knelt before him in submission.

Tonight, though, that would change. Erestor's mark would no longer show Elrond's possession, but Glorfindel's.

Elrond handed Glorfindel the thin, hollow glass pipette that he had drawn black ink into. He nodded to Erestor's backside and smiled encouragingly at Glorfindel. They had discussed this ritual for several weeks, and Glorfindel knew what he was to do -- he just did not wish to inflict pain upon his newly bound spouse.

Still, he bent and pressed the sharpened glass tip into Erestor's flesh, pushing forward, withdrawing, and performing the task again. Slowly, he altered the ancient pattern of Elrond's house to the bloom of his own.

The Noldo hissed and bit at his lip, the long-forgotten pain of this branding resurfacing immediately. After several moments, though, the pain receded and he concentrated instead on the steady sound of Glorfindel's breathing and the secure warm presence of the blond in his mind. Soon he was lulled into a light trance, and time passed quickly for him.

Glorfindel stood up, the lamps dimming as the oil burned lower, and looked at the small blossom that now sat upon Erestor's flesh. The skin was enflamed, but he knew that would pass within a few days' time.

Erestor was his.

When he looked around the room, he noticed that the Peredhel family had slipped out unnoticed, leaving the newly wedded couple alone. "They have left us, Erestor," Glorfindel whispered roughly, his eyes dark as he gazed at his spouse's fair form. "We are done."

Erestor rolled to his side, his arousal thick and prominent against the coverlet. He smiled up at Glorfindel and held out his hand. "No, melethen. We are just starting." (my love)

The End