Awakening

A/N: Just a little story I wrote up after re-reading a part in "The Silmarillion" and visiting Nina's galleries. There is an image she drew (two actually) that inspired this story, but as I do not have her permission to display them, you'll just have to use your imagination. :) Enjoy!


Awakening


Yesterday…it was only yesterday that the Exiles had come to his realm. Right up to the Girdle of Melian they had walked, weary and worn, some still feeling the cold of the Helcaraxë, but no less determined in their quest to defeat the Vala now named Morgoth. Yesterday they had nearly begged for his help in sheltering them…yesterday he had learned Finwë had died.

Upon hearing the news of what had transpired at Alqualondë, the home of his brother’s people, Elu Thingol, King of Doriath and the halls of Menegroth, had turned away all the Exiles save for those who followed the sons of Finarfin. He had been looked upon with contempt by the sons of Fëanor, but they could not have known the brief history he had shared with their father’s father.

No, no one knew of that history, save for Melian, Ingwë, Olwë and, of course, Finwë. Thingol had never told anyone of the time when he was called Elwë, of the time he had journeyed to Valinor upon the Valar’s bidding with only Ingwë and Finwë as companions. None knew of the brief moment in time they had shared. And now Finwë was gone.

Tonight, Thingol had shunned his underground halls, wanting to be in the open air and beneath the stars he had first awoken under. He wanted to go back to a time that was long lost to him, back to a time before the Elves had divided and gone their separate ways. Back to a time when it was not Melian who held his heart, but a raven-haired Elf who had now passed from the world…

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

Three alone they were, journeying from the only land they have ever known in their short life spans to a land only told to them in tales by Oromë. One of gold, one of silver and one of night; in silence they traveled, not knowing where they were going or what they would find once they reached their destination. The unknown frightened them though they masked their fears carefully and headed onward.

Often times they journeyed with Oromë upon his horse Nahar, who would easily carry both the three and his master whilst running swiftly across the lands; at times they would walk the paths by foot, following the directions the Vala had given them whenever Oromë needed to leave the Elves and attend to other business. They had talked little on their journey, unable to strike up conversation; very little did they know of their newly awakened selves that they were unable to speak to their companions without questioning themselves afterwards. There was one thing they did know about themselves and one another: their names.

Elwë walked silently through the darkened woods he was currently traveling in, quietly observing his two companions much as he had since they began this journey. Ingwë and Finwë were alike him in many ways, and different in many more. He knew little of this world he had awoken into, knew little about himself but was quickly discovering things that easily fascinated him. Like his companions for example.

Elwë knew from Oromë that they each were Elves, children of Ilúvatar, the Firstborn into this new world. But physically they were different. Ingwë was taller than his companions, his face and hair fair with a golden hue to them, his eyes sharp and of the richest blue. Elwë himself was equally as tall as Ingwë, but with silvery tresses and emerald eyes; his build was not as sleek as his golden counterpart, but he was just as lithe. Finwë was slightly smaller than his companions with hair of the richest black that seemed to be strands of the night itself, framing eyes of an intense, storm-gray color; he possessed a mild temperament and was more often quiet and observant.

Oromë had called him a Teler when they had first met; Elwë began to wonder what that meant. He recalled the Valar naming Ingwë and those like him Vanyar, and Finwë and those with his features Noldor. But Elwë had difficulty fathoming what the words met. /Perhaps they are names for our differences,/ he mused to himself, trailing behind Finwë.

“Perhaps we should take some rest for the time being?” Ingwë’s voice sounded quietly from ahead as he stopped and turned to his companions. None of them had any knowledge of the time since the night seemed everlasting. But they did know they had been traveling for some time, and still had a long distance ahead of them.

“Mayhap you are right,” Finwë replied in his lilting voice. He turned to Elwë then, gray eyes searching out the Teler in the near dark. “What say you, Elwë?”

“A short rest would be most welcome,” Elwë said in reply.

“I shall go searching for some refreshment,” Ingwë said, turning and disappearing into the surrounding woods whilst Elwë and Finwë settled themselves at the trunks of neighboring trees. They sat in silence for some time, waiting for Ingwë to return whilst listening to the sounds around them. At length, Elwë spoke again.

“What do you suppose we will find when we reach Valinor?”

“I know not,” Finwë said in reply. “I suspect there we will meet the other Valar in all of their glory. If they are at all like Lord Oromë, then I suppose the land they live upon will be a glorious place.” He began to turn towards his companion, stopping suddenly with a wince.

“What is it?” Elwë asked, immediately sensing something amiss. His eyes followed a trail of starlight that played off Finwë’s dark hair until he encountered a strand of the raven tresses snagged on a nearby tree branch. “The wind must have done that,” he mused quietly, getting to his feet. Elven fingers deftly unknotted the silken hair, removing it gently from the branch that had ensnared it; Elwë briefly marveled at the feel of the dark locks, their satiny touch, against his skin before letting go and reclaiming his seat next to Finwë.

“Thank you,” the other Elf replied, giving Elwë a grateful look. The silver-haired Elf felt something suddenly stirring in his chest at that look. He didn’t understand it, this stirring that made him feel lightheaded. Everything was so new to him, and this was one more thing he was trying to learn. /I wonder if Finwë feels this as well, this light feeling./

“Elwë?”

He was startled out of his thoughts by the soft lyric notes of Finwë’s voice. “Yes?”

“What do you think of this?”

“ ‘This?’ ”

“This.” Finwë waved his hand around him, motioning at the star-studded sky, the bubbling river nearby, the woods around them. “And this.” The pads of his fingers brushed against the young tree he sat against, the ground he rested upon. “Everything.” Gray eyes suddenly fastened upon Elwë, the raven head tilting to the side just a fraction in quiet observation. “How do you feel about it all?”

Elwë sat silently, eyes fastened on the ground and on his hands, which began to fiddle with a blade of young grass. His mind was a jumble, making it difficult for him to focus on any one thought much less able to create a response to the question presented before him. In truth, everything had fascinated him when Elwë first awoke at Cuiviénen; but, then again, he was more than certain everyone had been fascinated with everything. They were all like newborns, and all they saw about them must have caught and held their attention.

“Elwë?” Finwë’s voice slowly drew him out of his musings yet again.

“I do know one thing,” Elwë replied, turning to the dark-haired Elf and fixing Finwë with a searching, emerald gaze. “I enjoy being in your company.” He smiled in amusement at the change in the other Elf’s face as Finwë’s cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. The raven-haired Elf was about to speak in reply when Ingwë returned then, his arms laden with berries and fruit’s the young trees of Yavanna had somehow produced in their slumbering state.

“I’ve spoken with Lord Oromë,” the golden-haired Elf said, kneeling next to Finwë and laying the foods upon the hem of his long, white robe. “He says we are not far now and should reach the Blessed Lands in short order. He asks that we wait here for a time and rest; he will come for us soon and take us the rest of the way.”

“’Tis good news,” Finwë said, fingering a bright red berry before placing the sweet fruit past his lips. He wasn’t aware of Elwë watching him with barely concealed interest as he ate the fruit before selecting another.

Elwë, for his part, turned his gaze away from Finwë, half-fearing the stirring he felt again in his chest. Not knowing what to make of the sensation, he concentrated instead on Ingwë, who began to speak of his thoughts about their journey and the land they were about to see.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Elwë? It’s time to rise. We must be off in short order.”

Oromë’s soothing voice slowly brought Elwë out of his reverie. Awareness came back to emerald orbs before the Elf blinked, slowly clearing the sleep from his eyes as he made to sit up. He couldn’t remember when he fell asleep, only that he, Finwë and Ingwë had been speaking about Valinor.

“Come,” Oromë said, getting to his feet from where he knelt next to the Teler. “’Tis time for us to go.” The Elves simply nodded, following the Vala to where Nahar awaited them as the white steed grazed quietly. Oromë spoke softly to the seemingly delicate creature, to which Nahar gave a toss of his head before the Vala mounted the leather saddle, fashioned by Aulë’s skilled hands. Holding out a hand, Oromë helped Ingwë to sit before him before aiding Finwë and Elwë, who took places behind.

Swifter than the wind they were off, riding towards the West with the lands of Middle-earth passing them by in a blur. Elwë was not aware of much save the feel of the wind in his hair, Nahar’s muscles rippling beneath his thighs and Finwë’s dark hair caressing his face as it was blown back. He held onto the slender Elf before him in order to keep from falling off due to the increased pace of their journey.

Talk they did not for the Elves were entranced by the beautiful of the lands they were swiftly leaving; Oromë spoke not as he silently guided Nahar back to the realms of the Valar. It seemed like only moments had passed them by when the Elves found themselves bathed in warm light as Nahar touched upon the ground that was Valinor.

“Oh my…” Ingwë was heard whispered as the horse slowed his pace, allowing his riders their first sight of the land. The Two Trees shimmered brightly, warming the land with their light and radiance. Taniquetil stood proudly above all the land, and was Nahar’s final destination as the white steed turned towards the snow-capped mountings.

Soon, the three Elves found themselves following Oromë into the white halls of Manwë. The palace the King of the Valar lived in seemed to be carved out of the snow of the mountain, its walls glistening in the light of Telperion and Laurelin. Reaching out a hand, Elwë brushed one of the standing pillars of the corridor they traveled down; he did not feel the cold, for Elves, they could come to learn, were not susceptible to such temperature changes. But it felt pleasing cool to the touch, causing the silver-haired Elf to smile.

“Welcome,” a kind and gentle female voice greeted. Oromë bowed slightly before Varda as the Elves looked on in awe. Never before had they seen a lady of her like, and never would they again. Silver was her hair, much like Elwë’s, but more radiant and glittering with innumerable stars. Her raiment was white, spotted with more stars of both gold and silver. Gentle gray-blue eyes smiled down at the Elves as she greeted them. “I am Varda Elentári.”

“’Twas you then, my Lady, who created the wonder that is the sky we saw upon first awakening,” Finwë said, to which Varda‘s smile seemed to brighten.

“Aye, ‘twas I to did such a thing, and it was for you, the Firstborn. But come, my Lord awaits you.” With a sweep of her robes, she turned and continued to lead them down the long corridor. The Elves followed both her and Oromë as they made their way into a vast, wide chamber. In the center rested a circle of marble, into which was carved the seven stars of Valacirca, the Sickle of the Valar whose likeness had been raised into the sky.

In an intricately carved throne sat the Lord of the Valar, Manwë Súlimo; rich chestnut hair fell about his shoulders, framing a young but wizened face and eyes the color that mirrored Elwë’s emerald. To his right stood Námo, Mandos of the Silent Halls. Similar in looks was he to Manwë, though his hair was of the deepest black and his eyes the darkest blue; he regarded the Elves with a look of both love and foreboding, as if he knew more about their existence than he was willing to let on. To Manwë’s sat Irmorienrien of Dreams. A pale gold was his hair, nearly the color of wheat in the early autumn, and his eyes were of a swirling gray-blue. Kindly did he look upon the Firstborn with a smile upon his face and a twinkle in his eye.

Present were the other Valar: Yavanna Kementári, Aulë the Smith, Tulkas Astaldo, Nienna, Nessa, Vána the Ever-Young, Vairë the Weaver and Estë the Gentle. All gazed upon the Elves with the same wonder as the three bestowed upon them. Slowly, Manwë stood from his seat and stepped upon the marble circle as he addressed the Elves.

“Glad am I that you accepted our invitation to come,” he said, speaking softly though his voice carried in the chamber. “We are delighted to have you amongst us. Tell me: what say you of this land that is ours?”

Ingwë was the first to reply, bowing deeply in respect to the Lord of the Valar before he spoke. “’Tis a place like none other I have ever seen, my Lord, and I have seen few. There is boundless beauty here, one that seems to live ever on. The lands we have come from are beautiful in their own right, yet shrouded in a dark that is mysterious, enchanted but foreboding at the same time.”

“He speaks right,” Finwë said. “The land here enthralls me, so different it is from the ones that we have traveled from.”

“Is this place to your liking?” Yavanna asked in a hopeful sounding voice.

“Aye, it is, my Lady,” Elwë replied. “Though, a questionguesgues me.”

“And what is that, Singollo?” Námo asked as he turned to the silver-haired Elf. There was a look in his eyes none could place, a piercing gaze that he fixed upon the Teler.

“Why have you brought us to your lands? For what purpose?”

“’Tis simple reasoning,” Manwë replied. “We would like you and yours to join us here, if you will consent to it, that is. We, of course, will not force you into the decision; it is yours to make. But please consider our offer. We would be most pleased if you would join us in these lands. If you must, stay a while and take some time to consider what it is we ask of you.”

“Consider your words we will, my Lord,” Ingwë said. “We thank you for the offer, and for the time we need to consider it.”

“Go then and take some rest from your journey,” Varda said, motion to the corridor they had journeyed down. “When you have made your decision, please let us know.”

“We will, my Lady,” Finwë replied with a bow before the three Elves turned and left the chamber; neither Finwë nor Elwë saw the gaze Námo directed at them as they left.

~~~~~~~~~~

The equivalent of ten days had passed since the Elves had arrived to Valinor; without any knowledge of time or how to calculate it, for there was always light in Valinor, Elwë began to count the number of times he went into reverie to keep track of the passing moments. The silver-haired Elf found that he thoroughly enjoyed the company of his elven companions as the three of them often spent their days together. Ingwë, now and again, would leave the other two to spend long moments in conversation with Manwë and Varda; Finwë in turn began to find Aulë pleasing company, whilst Elwë sometimes sought out the presence of Oromë or Yavanna. It was during the times when the Elves were apart that Elwë began to realize he missed Finwë’s company, and would always try to hurry back to his dark-haired friend.

“Elwë.”

He stopped upon hearing his name; lifting his eyes, emerald eyes began to sparkle as they caught sight of Finwë on the path just ahead of him. “I had thought you would be speaking with Lord Aulë this day,” Elwë said as he stepped to Finwë’s side.

“I did,” the other Elf replied as the pair resumed walking. “But Lord Aulë said he had some work yet to be finished, so I let him be.” In silence they tread the springy grass, which bounced back to life once the two Elves had passed over with light footsteps. “What think you of this place, Elwë? Is it to your liking?”

“Very much.” His smile broadened just a touch as the pair made their way closer to the Two Trees, the light casting a shimmering glow to the Elves’ clothing. “It is much removed from the land we awoke in. I never would have thought to see such a place. Arda is beautiful in itself with its star-filled night sky and the young trees and land. But tthisthis is a place I never would have dreamed existed had I not seen it for myself.”

Finwë nodded, considering his friend’s words for a moment. “The Valar are asking that we return to our people and tell them of what we saw, perhaps to persuade them to make the journey here. Will you speak of this matter when we return?”

“Of course! Will you not?”

“I will. I too have fallen in love with this land, and I’m sure our people will as well.” He took a deep breath, closing his eyes as a hand rested lightly upon one of Laurelin’s branches. “’Tis too beautiful here for words. One can only hope to feel the beauty of this place through the senses rather than the mind.”

“Aye, I must agree.”

/Though I find there is something even more beautiful than this land./

Elwë was somewhat startled by the thought that had just surfaced in his mind. He averted his eyes, looking anywhere but at the one who stood before him. He didn’t understand it, these feelings that were coursing through him, making him feel warm and lightheaded. It was all so strange, so frightening yet not unwelcome in the least. Elwë wished he understood the feeling better; it was more than a little confusing.

“Elwë?”

He didn’t turn to Finwë when the other Elf spoke. Instead, Elwë kept his eyes on the ground at his feet. Gentle fingers moved under his chin, tipping his head up until he met storm-gray eyes gazing at him in a mix of concern and…hope?

“Why do you look away, Elwë?”

“I…” Finwë’s grasp upon his chin prevented Elwë from looking away; instead, he closed his eyes, swallowing thickly as his voice came out in a low tone. “I don’t understand what is happening to me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I feel…I feel light. My heart thunders in my chest; sometimes I feel as if the world doesn’t exist, as if everything is here but…not. I cannot make any sense of it all.”

“What makes you feel this way, Elwë?”

Slowly, emerald eyes opened, fixing themselves upon Finwë’s curious face. “You do.” Impulse made him reach out, grasping the dark-haired Elf’s hand in his own when Finwë began to pull away. “I don’t know why, but every time I’m with you, I feel this way. I los lost when you are not close.”

“I…” It was Finwë’s turn to feel confused and slightly insecure about the situation, to look away from the Elf that had a gentle but firm hold on his hand. It was his turn to meet Elwë’s gaze when the other urged him to do so, and to stumble over his words when next he spoke. “I…I thought I was the only one. I asked Ingwë, but he did not know what I spoke of. I did not…I never thought youldould…”

“Feel the same?” Elwë finished with a slow, lazy smile. “I suppose there are still things about this world--about ourselves--that we still have yet to learn.” He took a step closer, wrapping an arm loosely about Finwë’s back and drawing the other closer. “We can learn together.”

“I would like that.” Finwë felt warmth creeping over his cheeks as Elwë drew him ever closer; he could feel the silver-haired Elf’s breath brushing across the skin of his neck, causing the blush to deepen. Stormy eyes slowly closed as he felt his lips being brushed gently by another pair, before the kiss deepened.

His lips felt like silky velvet, and tasted sweeter than honey. Elwë found himself drowning in the kiss as one hand dived into the thick mass of raven locks that slipped like warm satin across his fingertips. The tip of his questing tongue touched Finwë’s lips lightly before slipping past parted teeth in exploration. Elwë smiled at the moan he heard feltfelt, seeking to deepen the caress as much as he could. All too soon the need for air became apparent, and he reluctantly pulled away.

Finwë had never before felt such a need, such a want as what that single kiss had produced. Breathing deeply in order to catch his breath, he laid his head upon Elwë’s shoulder, enjoying the feel of hands in his hair and a kiss placed tenderly upon his forehead. Something somewhere in the back of his mind told him this couldn’t last, but he ignored it, closing his eyes as he sighed deeply.

Neither Elf saw or felt the pair of deep ocean blue eyes regarded them closely. Námo remained in his hiding place just behind a nearby tree and out of eyesight of either Elf. He watched them carefully, a deep frown etched upon his forehead as he observed the kiss ahe the tenderness in the Elves’ eyes.

“Why do you look so miserable, Námo?”

He turned at the sound of the voice, finding himself suddenly in Varda’s presence. The Vala of the Halls of Silence did not seem at all surprised to see the Lady of the Stars, but he said nothing until his gazed was fixed upon the Elves again. “It cannot last,” Námo said, his meaning unclear but one Varda understood.

“’Tis the first stirrings of love they feel for one another,” she replied, taking a step closer. “Will you deny them their love for one another?”

“Nay, ‘tis not in my power to deny the strongest emotion any of their kind will ever feel. But their love is not meant to be.”

“Why do you say that?”

“They will love others, and their lines will be great in the coming days of the world. This that they feel for one another is not meant to last, though they will always feel it.”

Varda regarded him closely, and in her eyes was reflected the same knowledge Námo had just spoken. “Perhaps this love of theirs will not linger long in this world in the form it is presently in. But do not deny them what they feel at this moment, Námo, for it is a feeling that will stay with them for many ages of this world.”

“I do not seek to deny them this, for as I have said it is not in my power to do so. I dearly wish this love would linger, but it cannot. I know this, and I fear for them.” A gentle haas las laid upon his shoulder then; Námo turned to find ndernder smile aimed at him before the Lady Varda turned away.

“Fear not for them, dear Námo. They are strong, for that is the will of Ilúvatar.”

He watched her go, knowing she was right but unable to shake his foreboding feeling. “They are strong indeed,” Námo whispered to himself. “But their resolve and love will be tested in the days to come.” He sighed to himself, keeping a close watch on the Elves before he too turned away and went back to his h.
.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Ingwë, we are still far from Cuiviénen. Will you not take some rest?”

Ingwë simply shook his golden head at Elwë’s question and pressed onward. “I am eager to return to my people and tell them of all the things we have seen. I cannot rest now, but do not let my impatience stop you. Rest, the both of you. I will meet back with you at Cuiviénen.” Thus said, Ingwë continued on, disappearing into the ever present night of Middle-earth until Elwë and Finwë lost sight of him.

“Let us take our rest then,” Elwë said with a sigh, turning to Finwë. “I do not possess whatever force is driving Ingwë onward, and I would like to take some sleep while I can.”

“Aye, I must agree,” Finwë replied with a nod of his dark head. “There will be many questions to answer upon our return. And quite a bit of persuasion as well if we are to convince our people to return with us to Valinor.”

“For the moment, it’s just us.” Wrapping an arm around Finwë’s slender waist, Elwë pulled him closer to bestow a loving kiss on the other’s lips. He smiled into the caress when he heard and felt Finwë moan and wrap his arms around the silver-haired Elf’s neck. The kiss itself was long and slow, making both Elves weak in the knees, causing them to collapse upon the light leafy litter of the ground.

Elwë couldn’t resist as he allowed his hands to roam through the raven mane of his lover, picking away at leaves and grass blades that got caught up in the silken mass. His slender fingers deftly removed the pale blue ribbon, freeing the half bun Finwë wore as decoration; he smiled as he felt the braids on either side of his head being released at the same moment.

“I thought you wished to sleep,” Finwë whispered as Elwë’s hands found their way to the lacings of his outer robe.

“There are other things we can do to help us sleep,” the silver-haired Elf replied, mischief and wanting evident in his voice.

“Such as?”

“Allowing our imaginations to roam freely?”

Finwë laughed at the innocent invitation, lifting his head to give his partner a quick, loving kiss. thi think that is an excellent idea.” Gray eyes fluttered closed when he felt Elwë’s lips touch the side of his neck gently as if to taste his skin. He decided he liked the caress, and Finwë arched his back in delight.

Elwë regarded his lover silently for a moment. He planted light, teasing kisses over the exposed skin of Finwë’s neck and face whilst his hands remained busy with the other’s robes. A sultry smile played across his lips as he suckled on a patch of skin, eliciting a soft hiss from his lover. Finally, the last of the laces was undone, exposing creamy pale skin to the starlight and Elwë’s emerald gaze. The tip of a pink tongue darted out, wetting his lips as his irises dilated, causing his eyes to darken.

“Do you like what you see?” Finwë whispered, noticing the look on his lover’s face.

“Aye, very much,” came the hushed reply as warm hands plaoverover the dark-haired Elf’s skin in teasing caresses.

“Good. Then let me have my fill.” Finwë lifted his head, claiming Elwë’s lips in a deep kiss whilst his hands worked on the fastenings of the silver-haired Elf’s robes. He felt the cool air caress his skin as Elwë pushed his own clothing from his shoulders. Together, without breaking their kiss, they released the other from the confines of their clothing until they were bare to the night and to one another’s eyes.

“Do we even know what we are doing?” Elwë asked in a hushed voice whilst wrapping a strand of raven hair about his finger.

“Does it matter? We can learn, as we’ve learned everything else in our short lives.” Finwë smiled, kissing the tip of his lover’s nose as he snuggled closer, sighing softly as their skins touched.

The silver-haired Elf smiled, wrapping his arms around Finwë and rolling them over until the dark-haired Elf was resting comfortably on his back with Elwë propped up on his elbows over him. Gasps left both of their lips at the new sensations that were spiraling through their bodies, setting their flesh afire and overwhelming their senses. Nuzzling the side of his lover’s neck, Elwë allowed his tongue to teasingly caress from lobe to tip and back again, grinning when he was rewarded with a soft, pleasurable hiss.

“Did you like that?”

“Very much so.” Finwë hushed suddenly as Elwë performed the action again, a soft blush staining his cheeks. “Elwë…” His fingertips brushed his lover’s back and s; th; the skin beneath his hands began to tremble when Finwë roamed over hips and thighs before encountering the core of the other Elf’s arousal. Fingers encountered wetness as they roamed over the slowly weeping head, the flesh warm and firm to the touch; slender digits set to exploring as they moved up and down hardening column. Finwë inhaled sharply when he felt Elwë giving him the same slow, loving treatment.

He wanted to give this dark-haired beauty much, wanted to pleasure him until they were both content and satisfied. But how? Tilting his head slightly, Elwë brushed a kiss across Finwë’s before leaving a trail of kisses over the other’s body. Light nips and licks made a dancing pattern down the pale, satin smooth skin; a soft bite to a collar bone followed by a gentle kiss just before the left rib. His hands made busy, gently caressing the soft skin of Finwë’s inner thighs; the slender legs parted for him as Elwë journeyed downward.

Soon he could go no further when Elwë found himself witness to Finwë’s affection for him. Experimentally, he let his tongue dart out over the head, collecting the first milky drops. The taste was sweet and caused Elwë to crave more of his lover. Placing his hands against the other Elf’s hips, Elwë held his lover gently but firmly before taking him into his mouth.

Nothing had ever felt so good. Slowly, Finwë allowed his eyes to close as he gave himself over to the sensation of a first lovemaking. Handfuls of silver hair were clutched in his fist, his blush spreading over his ears and neck and across his chest. His breathing became more ragged and irregular as Elwë manipulated him, causing Finwë to desire more of his lover’s touch.

Elwë could feel Finwë quivering, and he knew it was because of what he was doing. He wasn’t exactly sure of what he was doing, but Finwë seemed to enjoy his ministrations. Trusting in his instincts, Elwë allowed his tongue to play over the firm erection in his mouth. Moaning softly, he pulled away when Finwë went still and drew in a sharp gasp.

“Finwë?”

“Please…don’t stop…”

Slightly confused, Elwë took his lover in again slowly. Feeling the hands in his hair tightly, he shifted positions slightly, moaning again when his own erection rubbed against the soft moss below him. Again Finwë gasped and stiffened, but this time Elwë realized his lover took pleasure in the sounds he was making. Smiling, Elwë began to hum as he moved his tongue against the large vein on the underside of Finwë’s arousal; he was rewarded with a soft cry, causing him to double his efforts as his hands set to stroking the soft underside of his lover’s thighs.

“Elwë…” His body, unaccustomed to such intimate touches, soon released. Dazzling lights flashed behind Finwë’s closed eyes as he spilled himself into his lover’s mouth. The tension that had built up left his body, leaving him feeling content but craving more. Finwë smiled and returned the kiss when Elwë claimed his lips, allowing the silver-haired Elf to suckle on his lower lip. “That was divine,” he whispered when Elwë released him. “But I find myself wanting more.”

“Mmm, as do I,” Elwë replied, pressing close to his lover. He was well aware of his still present erection, which now pressed against Finwë’s thigh. He swallowed, thinking of how to phrase his next question. “I have seen some of the men and maids at Cuiviénen…can we…can we do that?”

Finwë regarded his lover a moment, noting the look of love and want in the emerald eyes which he knew was reflected in his own. Tenderly he touched his fingers to Elwë’s face, caressing the smooth skin stretched over high cheekbones. “We can, if it is what we want.”

“It is. I do want this.”

“And I also.” Finwë smiled, brushing his lips against his lover’s and sighing softly. Deepening the kiss, he wrapped his arms around Elwë, drawing him closer as their bodies pressed together. He moaned softly as he felt Elwë’s still erect arousal press against his own member, which stirred again at the intimate touch. He shifted slightly as Finwë felt Elwë reach between them, seeking out the entrance to the dark-haired Elf’s body.

When he found the guardian ring, Elwë’s brow furrowed as he massaged the guardian ring. Could he really enter that? It seemed so small to accommodate him; how could he possibly bring Finwë anything but pain if they joined? A soft mew sounded, catching Elwë’s attention and causing him to turn until he met Finwë’s hazy, love-filled gaze.

“I…I can’t.”

“You won’t hurt me,” Finwë whispered, drawing his lover closer. “Nothing you do could hurt me.” He placed a loving kiss upon the silver-haired Elf’s lips. Slowly, he brought up Elwë’s other hand, his tongue darting out to wet the digits. A smile tugged at the corners of Finwë’s lips as he heard Elwë inhale sharply and watched the emerald eyes darken at the simple action he was performing. “Try that,” he said once he had thoroughly coated his lover’s fingers.

Nodding slowly, Elwë complied, moving his now slicked fingers to Finwë’s entrance, massaging and coating the guardian ring at the same time. He watched in rapt attention as Finwë threw back his head, a low, long moan leaving the kiss bruised lips and filling the surrounding air. Daring to enter another finger, Elwë gently stretched and prepared his dark-haired love; he stopped when his fingertips encountered a small nub of flesh and he heard Finwë’s surprised yelp.

“Finwë, what…”

“By the Valar, what did you do?” Finwë asked in a breathless voice. He groaned when the small bundle of nerves was brushed again by his shifting. “That feels…” A pleased mew sounded as the nub was brushed again ever so faintly.

A slow smile spread across Elwë’s face as he flicked his fingertips against the little hidden spot again and again, delighting the pleased moans his dark-haired beauty was issuing. Leaning forward, he crushed the already bruised lips into a loving kiss, leaving them both breathless as he pulled away.

“Elwë…please…I need you…”

“Finwë…” Slowly Elwë withdrew his fingers. After a moment’s thought, he quickly coated his aching erection with pearly drops of his own seed before gathering his lover into his arms and pressing their bodies close. The head of his arousal just pressed against Finwë’s entrance, eliciting moans from the pair. When Finwë shifted impatiently beneath him, Elwë complied and slowly pressed into his lover, breaching the guardian ring of muscle; he moved inward slowly, taking his time, until he was fully sheathed.

Finwë muffled the sound of pain he nearly issued when Elwë first began to enter him. Prepared but inexperienced, he expected the pain but didn’t want his lover to know of his hurt. It would pass, and pass it did as Elwë ceased moving, giving them both time to adjust. Light, loving kisses were placed along the dark-haired Elf’s neck and shoulders as they laid together. Slowly the discomfort passed, ebbing away and becoming a source of pleasure. Soon, Finwë craved more of his lover, wanted to feel more of the silver-haired Elf touching him, moving inside him. Moving to kiss his lover, Finwë began to suck on Elwë’s tongue, silently imploring him for more.

The silver-haired Elf seemed to understand his lover’s needs and wants as slowly he began to pull out of the warm, tight entrance. He smiled softly into the kiss as Finwë whimpered at the loss of contact, that is before Elwë pressed back inwards again, this time at a quickened pace. Again he pulled out, and again he entered increasing his pace each time. With the fourth thrust, he succeeded in finding the hidden, sweet spot again, delighting in the soft whimper Finwë made.

He clutched tightly at his lover as the pace of their lovemaking increased until their movements began frenzied. Slender hands wove into Elwë’s silver mane, fisting the strands as if they were the very lifeline Finwë’s fëa hung by. “Elwë…” His voice was a quiet purr into the delicately pointed ear of his lover; Finwë smiled smugly at the shudder that raced through Elwë’s body when the warm breath touched his ear. A gasp followed the smile as Elwë drove himself ever deeper into his body at the same moment a warm hand cupped his erection, gently squeezing the heated, hardened flesh.

Elwë didn’t think he would hold out much long. His body felt hot to the touch, sweat glistening off his flushed skin, his eyes gazing at his lover who moved wantonly beneath him. “Finwë…my Finwë…” He returned the gentle smile that was given to him before kissing the slightly swollen lips again, swallowing the muffled moan as Finwë came fast and hard into his hand. His lover’s inner muscles clamped down tightly about him, bringing Elwë to his peak. He came in creamy waves, coating his lover’s inner walls as Elwë collapsed upon the raven-haired Elf.

Neither said anything as they lay together, riding out the last waves of their release as they worked to steady their breathing. Elwë’s tongue flicked out briefly to collect a pearly drop of perspiration that trailed down the side of Finwë’s neck, eliciting a sigh from his lover before Finwë bestowed him with a gentle kiss upon the brow.

“I love you, Elwë,” Finwë whispered as Elwë gentle pulled out of him before wrapping Finwë in a warm embrace. The dark-haired Elf rested his head upon his lover’s shoulder, feeling gentle fingers combing through his slightly tangled mass of hair. “I will always love you, no matter what happens or what comes between us. Even if I or you, or both of us, should take a wife, a part of me will always be with you, loving you. I’ll always remember this night.”

“As will I, Finwë. Though I hope nothing will come between us.”

“We do not know for sure, only the Valar know what the future holds. But at least you’ll always live in my heart.”

“And you in mine, Finwë.”

He smiled, gentle lifting his head to kiss the side of Elwë’s neck before replacing his head upon his love’s shoulder. Finwë allowed the sound of Elwë’s heartbeat to lull him to sleep, feeling safe within the circle of his lover’s arms.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Where is Elwë?” Finwë’s face remained calm even as his heart was in turmoil. News had reached him that Elwë had gone missing during the journey to Valinor; the way was still long, and already the host of Elves had lost many who refused to make the journey or had turned back. Ingwë had gone ahead with his followers leaving behind Finwë and Elwë to follow. But now Elwë had gone missing and the dark-haired Elf was reluctant to go on without his lover.

“We don’t know where he is,” Olwë, Elwë’s younger brother, had replied. “We lostht oht of him sometime ago and cannot find him. I do not know what to do.”

Finwë stood silent as he debated with himself on the matter, ignoring all the curious and questioning looks he was receiving. He was torn as to what to do. A part of him said to go, continue on to Valinor and that Elwë would find him there. But he feared that his lover would never come, that Elwë had found a reason to stay on this Middle-earth and would leave him.

/But you won’t lose him. Did you not promise each other that night that nothing would come between your love? Thatone,one, not even a wife whom you would love, would sunder what is between you? He would want you to go on and continue this journey, even without him./

Finwë knew the words of his heart were true. He closed his eyes, seeing Elwë’s face in his mind’s eye. Taking a few moment’s to memorize lovelover’s face, Finwë came to his decision. Slowly he turned to Olwë, fixing the slightly younger Elf with his gray gaze. “Let us continue to Valinor, Olwë. Let those who wish remain behind and wait for Elwë, but let you and I continue. From this moment on, you shall be leader of those of your brother’s people who will follow you into the West. Let us not keep the Valar waiting.”

Olwë nodded slowly, knowing the wisdom behind the other Elf’s words but being slightly reluctant. He relayed the message to the Elves of his brother’s host; in time, they were divided in half between those that would stay and those that would go. The march to Valinor then continued with the Elves who chose to remain bidding farewell to their brethren.

Finwë chanced a glance back, hoping to catch a glimpse of Elwë but failing. He whispered words of love to the trees in hopes they would relay his message, before turning about and facing his future.

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

“I hurt you by leaving you that day, didn’t I?” Thingol whispered quietly as he gazed at the stars. A gentle night breeze blew, stirring his silver hair and reminding him of a time when it was the warm, slender fingers of another running through them. “I didn’t mean to leave you, didn’t intend to fall in love with her so quickly. But I didn’t forget you, Finwë; I never forgot you.”

Clutching at his chest, he felt the ache in his heart and the prickle of tears in his eyes before crystal droplets fell over Thingol’s cheeks. “I love you still, Finwë. You will always be my Finwë. I miss you…” Sinking to his knees, sobs began to race through his body as he mourned the passing of his first lover. “I love you…”

He would remember this day, the day he heard the news of his lover’s passing, as vividly as that night they shared. Silently Thingol reached up, wiping his tears from his face with the sleeve of his robe as he collected himself. Getting to his feet, he brushed the dirt and grass from his knees before looking at the stars one last time with a small smile before turning back to his home to be the proud king he was once more, his mwandwandering back to the night they shared.

*Do you see them? Do you see the stars, Elwë? Aren’t they beautiful? What could be more beautiful than waking to such a sight?*

*Awakening to your face, Finwë. To your smiling, beautiful face.*