House of the Golden Flower
folder
+First Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
48
Views:
3,874
Reviews:
54
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
+First Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
48
Views:
3,874
Reviews:
54
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Part III: Chapter Five
Two more chapters, after five years. I'll be finishing this story soon.
Idril and Tuor married in the spring, seven years after he had made passage to the Hidden City. I was not opposed to it, and Turgon, seeing her love for the man, and knowing she had been long alone; permitted it. He not only permitted it, he blessed their union, with great feasting and much joy.
Only Meaglin was unhappy, loathing and disgusted looks were heaped and piled upon Tuor and I in the corridors, not that we particularly cared. Tuor himself was too happy to notice.
On the day of Idril’s wedding, the whole city turned out, crowding into the King’s Square before the tower; garlanding and wreathing every post, sign, and outcrop they could find. White flowers left a heavy perfume in the air, making my head spin. Tuor was fidgeting in his new wedding garments.
Ecthelion came to collect us, and we went down to the square, taking our places beside Turgon and the other Lords on one side at the base of the marble stairway; we faced the ladies on the other side, flushing in the heat and with excitement.
From beside me, I heard Tuor gasp and stare. Turgon, on the other side of me, smiled in satisfaction. The bride, glowing and resplendent in her gown and veil, came slowly down the steps. She seemed to be unable to look at Tuor. She glanced at her father, and I; and Ecthelion, then around at the crowd assembled. She seemed relieved to have found no sign of Maeglin. I was pleased that he was not there either.
Among our kind, to be married was simple. Her father took her hand, and Tuor’s hand; and placed his daughter’s hand in the son of Huor’s. Now linked, the two turned to face the crowd, and a great cheer went up. Singing began, and the feast was laid out. Tuor and Idril partook first, and then the couple retreated to their bridal chambers. They would not be seen again for a month. The imposed isolation cemented marriages; usually this was the time when the young couple found out whether being married to one another was a good idea or not, and if it was, children were often conceived at this time.
Apparently, Idril Celebrindal and Tuor son of Huor were meant to be.
Glowing, Idril came to me immediately after the isolation had ended, to tell me that she had felt the spark of new life.
I was awed, and overjoyed. Idril was our dearest treasure, and the whole city was in her thrall. Turgon doted, Tuor worried, and I felt myself fiercely protective. I would not let her walk anywhere alone, and although at first she was flustered with the attention; soon she grew cross and snappish.
But that time passed, and her father and I found ourselves with Tuor waiting in an alcove, silent with worry, unspeaking, unable to look at one another. Then a baby’s cry broke the still air; and the whole city breathed again. Outside the sounds of celebration rose up, as Idril’s handmaidens rushed to us and to the windows, crying “Idril is delivered of a fine son! All is well!”
And so, all was well.
Idril and Tuor married in the spring, seven years after he had made passage to the Hidden City. I was not opposed to it, and Turgon, seeing her love for the man, and knowing she had been long alone; permitted it. He not only permitted it, he blessed their union, with great feasting and much joy.
Only Meaglin was unhappy, loathing and disgusted looks were heaped and piled upon Tuor and I in the corridors, not that we particularly cared. Tuor himself was too happy to notice.
On the day of Idril’s wedding, the whole city turned out, crowding into the King’s Square before the tower; garlanding and wreathing every post, sign, and outcrop they could find. White flowers left a heavy perfume in the air, making my head spin. Tuor was fidgeting in his new wedding garments.
Ecthelion came to collect us, and we went down to the square, taking our places beside Turgon and the other Lords on one side at the base of the marble stairway; we faced the ladies on the other side, flushing in the heat and with excitement.
From beside me, I heard Tuor gasp and stare. Turgon, on the other side of me, smiled in satisfaction. The bride, glowing and resplendent in her gown and veil, came slowly down the steps. She seemed to be unable to look at Tuor. She glanced at her father, and I; and Ecthelion, then around at the crowd assembled. She seemed relieved to have found no sign of Maeglin. I was pleased that he was not there either.
Among our kind, to be married was simple. Her father took her hand, and Tuor’s hand; and placed his daughter’s hand in the son of Huor’s. Now linked, the two turned to face the crowd, and a great cheer went up. Singing began, and the feast was laid out. Tuor and Idril partook first, and then the couple retreated to their bridal chambers. They would not be seen again for a month. The imposed isolation cemented marriages; usually this was the time when the young couple found out whether being married to one another was a good idea or not, and if it was, children were often conceived at this time.
Apparently, Idril Celebrindal and Tuor son of Huor were meant to be.
Glowing, Idril came to me immediately after the isolation had ended, to tell me that she had felt the spark of new life.
I was awed, and overjoyed. Idril was our dearest treasure, and the whole city was in her thrall. Turgon doted, Tuor worried, and I felt myself fiercely protective. I would not let her walk anywhere alone, and although at first she was flustered with the attention; soon she grew cross and snappish.
But that time passed, and her father and I found ourselves with Tuor waiting in an alcove, silent with worry, unspeaking, unable to look at one another. Then a baby’s cry broke the still air; and the whole city breathed again. Outside the sounds of celebration rose up, as Idril’s handmaidens rushed to us and to the windows, crying “Idril is delivered of a fine son! All is well!”
And so, all was well.