Winter's Day

A/N: This is my Christmas fic for everyone, written over two days and likely riddled with mistakes. This is for all my wonderful friends and fellow slash writers, as well as for all of you readers who seem to enjoy my stories (though I have no idea why) and who take the time to review them, one way or another.
As this is a Glorfindel/Ecthelion story, it will later be added to my other story, "The Flower and The Fountain" which is also ungoing major revisions and chapter additions; those new chapters will be added once the entire story is finished, for those who are interested.
Enjoy and thank you again! ::hugs and kisses::

Winter's Day

He awoke to the sunlight streaming in through the partially open window, illuminating the bedroom and warming his skin. A cold wind blew through the crack of the crystalline pane, but he did not care; elves do not feel the cold, and the breeze felt like nothing more than the gentle breath of his lover. His lover…a smile came to his face as he thought of the one sleeping fitful behind him. Cradling his raven head upon a folded arm and a satin covered pillow, gray-blue eyes gazed out as the morning arrived, illuminating the white city nestled in the valley of encircling mountains.

“Winter is approaching,” Ecthelion whispered to himself, watching as Arien rose higher in the sky, a new day dawning as she bathed the city in rays of golden rose. He smiled and closed his eyes momentarily when he felt the arm around his bare waist tighten, and a kiss upon the nape of his neck.

“Meleth…”

Turning to his lover, Ecthelion’s hand instantly sought out the nearest handful of golden hair, fisting the silken strands in his slender fingers. “A good morn to you, malthener,” he whispered, bestowing a kiss upon his lover’s brow.

“And to you,” Glorfindel replied, drawing his raven-haired love closer, nestling his head upon Ecthelion’s shouldeHis His azure eyes were still heavy with sleep, but he drowned his senses in the warmth that his lover‘s presence emanated. “Arien shines brightly this day.”

“Aye, that she does. She is welcoming the day as one would welcome a long-missed lover.”

“Then today is a good day.”

Ecthelion smiled, giving a handful of golden hair a loving kiss before wrapping his arms about Glorfindel. For long, silent moments the lovers did nothing but rest, bathing themselves in the morning sun and in the love they held for one another. The cold wind continued to blow into the bed chamber of the Lord of the Golden Flower, but neither of the elves seemed to care. Smiles of love and happiness were upon their fair faces as the gold satin sheets rustled idly about their entwined bodies.

A twinkle of light caught Glorfindel’s eye from the direction of a window. For a moment he imagined he was still dreaming in his half-aware state, but then the twinkle came again, followed by another and another. “Look,” he said, lifting his head and indicating a window. “’Tis snowing. It is an early winter this year.”

“So it would appear,” Ecthelion replied as he too began to watch the falling white flakes as they descended upon the city. In short order, laughter filled the streets as other members of the city discovered the snowfall, which was becoming heavier with each passing moment. “This will be Eärendil’s first winter.”

“His first snowfall.” With a soft sigh, Glorfindel replaced his head where it had rested upon Ecthelion’s shoulder. “Do you remember it, Ecthelion? Our first snowfall? Our first happy snowfall together?”

“Aye, I remember it. It was less than a year after we came to Gondolin, after it was finished being built.” The memories came back to him then, memories of the early days of their lordships when Gondolin was young and its people were beginning to forget the Helcaraxë. “I had thought then, when the first flakes were falling, that I would forever had the snow and the ice for what happened to us over the passing. But it wasn’t what I expected at all. I was happy then, because we were together, and we were at peace.” The golden head lifted as Glorfindel’s eyes bore into Ecthelion’s own, the blue depths swimming with emotion. But Ecthelion smiled as he ran a hand over his lover’s face, his fingertips just brushing the smooth skin. “Some of our days have been dark since then. War and the threat of darkness is ever present. But there have been other days, days of quiet, of rest and peace.”

“Such as this day.” With a quick motion, Glorfindel slid forward, pressing his lips to his lover’s and delivering a slow, languid kiss. “Come, melethron. The day is new, and duty does not call us this day. Let us enjoy ourselves like we did that first winter’s day so long ago.”

“Aye, ‘tis an excellent idea.”

“Then let us be up and about!” With a giggle and a stolen kiss, Glorfindel shed the golden sheets of his bed and bounded over to the large, wood polished wardrobe in the far corner of his chamber before rummaging through the racks and drawers.

Ecthelion laid in a bed a moment longer, watching his lover act all giddy and childlike before he too rose from the bed and made his way to a small wardrobe. Since he often spent the nights in his lover’s bed, the Fountain lord had taken to stowing some of his clothes, and a spare sword of two, in Glorfindel’s rooms in case of emergencies. It was both a convenience and a precaution, one that has saved them from embarrassment on more than one occasion in the past.

Donning a pale blue cloak over his white and blue tunics and leggings, Ecthelion turned after finishing his braids to find his golden-haired love completing an ensemble of pale greens and blacks. “Stunning as always, melme,” the raven-haired elf whispered as he kissed Glorfindel’s cheek, his hands moving to braid the golden tresses.

“You do me too much credit,” came the loving retort accompanied by a soft blush as Glorfindel sat before his wardrobe mirror.

“Methinks you humble yourself too much.”

“I resent that!”

“You would, meleth. But you do not see the eyes that turn your way when you walk the streets, or the whispers about your beauty within the halls of our Lord’s gathered court.”

“Perhaps. But for every glance that comes my way, you are bestowed with twice as many. You are fair, Ecthelion, perhaps the fairest of all us.”

“Now you are doing me too much credit.”

Glorfindel giggled playfully as he rose from his seat, and swept on a cloak of emerald green; with a teasing, sultry look to his lover, he left his chamber to venture for the outdoors. There was only a moment’s hesitation as Ecthelion shook his head in amusement before following the golden-haired elf into the snow sprinkled courtyard of the House of the Golden Flower.

“What shall we do with ourselves this day, meleth?” Glorfindel inquired, clasping his hands behind his back whilst gazing at his lover over his shoulder.

“Perhaps we should dine first,” Ecthelion suggested. “Afterwards, let us gather our horses and go for a ride in the surrounding valley.”

“Sounds like an excellent plan. And where, pray tell, shall we dine this morn?”

“Do you not remember Tuor inviting us to his home last evening?”

“Ah yes, I recall such an invitation. I was under the impression he wanted us to arrive later, as it is still rather early.”

Ecthelion laughed, his musical voice echoing through the half-empty streets. “Now it is common knowledge that Tuor arises much earlier than any of us. I would not be at all surprised if we shall find his wide-eyed and more than ready for the day ahead. So let us be off then.” With a smile, he took hold of Glorfindel’s hand as the pair wound their way through the streets to the House of the Folk of the Wing.

~~~~~~~~~~

Tuor indeed had been awaken and glad to receive his friends when they arrived at his home for the morning meal. For a time the friends had shared pleasantries and greetings before they werlledlled to the dining hall for the meal; Idril, Eärendil in her arms, and most of the rest of the household were awaiting them.

The morning had passed quickly with much merriment. Even at the tender age of a mere year, young Eärendil was active and forever sought to find a way out of his mother’s arms and into Glorfindel’s to play with the golden strands of hair, which were shades more radiant that Idril’s own. Of course, crawling from his mother to the golden lord required traveling across Ecthelion’s lap, with resulted in quite an entertaining spectacle.

Once the meal had ended, the pair of elven lords had politely excused themselves and left the house, making for the King’s stables. The steeds of the lords of each home were tended in Turgon’s stables, whilst those of the members of each household resided elsewhere. It took but little time to ready the stallions, Asfaloth and Tinion, for the morning ride through the snow. Once mounted, the lovers were off, racing across the courtyard and down the city’s streets until they reached the open, snow-covered plains of the valley below.

The snowfall had lessened since the early dawn, but was still present, making for a wondrous ride. The horses did well as they maneuvered the frosty plain, avoiding any potentially icy patches or managing to keep their footing when they encountered one. The laughter of their masters kept the horses in high spirits as they raced in circles around the valley, leaving trails of hoof prints and scattered snow in their wake.

“Is it not glorious, vanimaer?” Glorfindel asked, his warm breath misting in the cold wind when the horses had slowed their hurried pace. The elves had dismounted, and were now leading their steeds as they walked lightly upon the snow without leaving a single trace of their steps. “Looking at this valley makes me almost forget the ice of the Helcaraxë. It makes me wonder how something so beautiful and serene could ever be so deadly.”

“Aye, it does make you wonder,” Ecthelion replied. “Though I suppose anything weather could be potentially dangerous; we’ve only had the misfortunate of experiencing winter’s chill at its worse. I do not wish to image how summer’s heat or spring’s rain can be harmful to us.”

“Nor do I.” The golden-haired elf sighed, enjoying the chill wind as his ghosted over the exposed skin of his face and hands. He turned to his lover, smiling at the sight of Ecthelion’s hair dusted with snowflakes. Speckles of white clung to the dark lashes, melting as they brushed against the warm, flushed cheeks only to be replaced by a few more.

“You are staring at me, malthener.”

“Because you are beautiful in the snow.”

“Have we not had this discussion earlier?” Ecthelion teased as he stopped and turned to the other.

“I am being truthful this time.” Reaching up a hand, Glorfindel brushed some damp hair from his lover’s cheek, feeling the flakes melt on his fingertips. He leaned forward, pressing a loving kiss to the rose-tinted lips he loved so much. “You are beautiful.”

“Liar,” Ecthelion whispered, though the sudden reddening of his cheeks revealed his embarrassment towards the compliment. His fingers moved forward, curling around some golden strands, which he brought closer to his face, reveling in their silky softness and the scent of fresh lavender from Glorfindel’s last bath. Ecthelion suddenly averted his gray-blue eyes, staring at their snow-covered boots. “Stop staring at me.”

“You are asking me to stop breathing then.” Glorfindel dared a step closer, releasing the reins he held, knowing Tinion would not run off. Their bodies were close, barely brushing, lips a hair’s breath away from touching. “You are my life, Ecthelion. My heart, my soul, the very air I breathe. I don’t know what I would do if you were to leave me.” His arms snaked around the slender waist of his lover as his other hand sought out the one holding his hair; weaving their fingers together, Glorfindel brought the entwined limbs to his chest, resting them over his heart. “I love you,” he whispered before bringing their lips together in a gentle kiss that spoke volumes.

The arm around his waist tightened as he leaned forward, melting to the kiss and embrace. Gray-blue eyes fluttered shut as Ecthelion gave into the warmth flooding his person as he answered the caress to his lips. Oh, how he loved this golden crowned beauty he had known since before his coming-of-age. How he would always love and cherish him, even should they be separated by the cold of Mandos. No, he wouldn’t think such thoughts, not now, not this day.

With a soft gasp for air, he pulled away but not before bestowing a brief apologetic kiss upon his lover’s lightly bruised lips. Glorfindel gave the other a loving smile before reclaiming Tinion’s reins and resuming their walk, his arm snug about Ecthelion’s waist.

“’Tis approaching mid-day,” Ecthelion remarked quietly after some time. They were drawing near to the city again, the gates within their view and the sounds of laughter and song grew louder.

“Aye, the day is quickly slipping by, much to my disappointment might I add.” With a quick kiss to Ecthelion’s cheek, Glorfindel let his arm slip from the slender waist, claiming a hand instead as they passed through the open gates and headed towards the city square, where the great fountain stood in all its majesty.

“Disappointed, meleth? You speak as if you had plans today.”

“Oh, I had a few thoughts in mind.”

“Such as?”

“Such as this!” Acting quickly than even he realized, Glorfindel had knelt, scooped up some snow and promptly threw it at a startled Ecthelion. A giggle left the usually dignified golden lord as the thrown snow clung to the front of Ecthelion’s tunic, melting into the rich velvet and streaking down his chest. Some flakes from the hastily formed projectile was splattered across the raven-haired elf’s face; Ecthelion could only stare in bewilderment as Glorfindel threw more snow at him and laughter on onlookers sounded.

“Why…you…you!” Acting instinctively, Ecthelion grabbed his own handful of snow, taking the time to form it into a neat sphere before throwing it at Glorfindel. The other was prepared for the retaliation, however, and ducked as the object flew over his head. A startled squawk sounded, causing the elves to turn.

There, on the path behind Glorfindel, was Rog and Egalmoth. The Lord of the Heavenly Arch was dressed in a rich cloak for amethyst velvet, his hair neatly braided away from his face. The Lord of the Hammer of Wrath, on the other hand, wore just a simple pair of black leggings and a red tunic, his dark hair gathered away from his face an neck. Ecthelion’s snowball had hit Rog squarely on the back of the head; the snow was quickly melting, dripping down past the tunic neck and into the back of Rog’s shirt.

“So sorry, Rog,” Glorfindel apologized hurriedly, unable to keep the amused grin from his face. He was about to say more when something cold and white blinded him. Shaking his head to clear it of the snow, the golden elf discovered a smirking Rog standing over him, one on on his hip and the other holding another, rather large snowball.

“Apologize later,” the Hammer lord said. “Fight now.” And with that he turned and promptly threw the handful of snow at his own lover, causing Egalmoth to protest quite loudly and creatively in Quenya before shedding his cloak and tackling the Hammer lord.

Glorfindel attempted to scramble away as the other elven lord wrestled in the snow, but soon found himself buried beneath them as they rolled about in the snow. He could hear Ecthelion laughing at their expense as he attempted to disentangle himself from Rog and Egalmoth, the three of them becoming nothing more than an unrecognizable pile of flaying limbs. Ecthelion’s laughter soon turned to a loud yelp as Egalmoth grabbed his ankle and pulled him down. An innocent snow fight between lovers quickly became an all our cold war between elven lords, no one taking sides but his own.

Snow was thrown, slipped down shirts and leggings, hair tugged playfully, and more than a few headlocks given before the four lords fell onto the snow, laughing in merriment. They were all either oblivious to the amused laughter and glances passed their way or ignored them as elflings flooded out of the households to engage in their own battles.

There came the sound of a rather throaty moan; Ecthelion turned to Glorfindel is curiosity before the two of them turned to Glorfindel’s left. The sight of Rog laying atop Egalmoth and practically devouring the other’s mouth was not completely unexpected but surprisingly nonetheless.

“Rog has no sense of discretion,” Glorfindel muttered, rolling away from the pair, who were obviously ignoring whoever else might be present in the square. He rolled his azure eyes when another moan sounded, wrapping his arms around Ecthelion and pulling the other elf closer.

“We should get out of the snow and these wet clothes,” Ecthelion commented somewhat absentmindedly.

“Later, just let me hold you right now.”

Ecthelion couldn’t deny the simple request. Instead, he merely nodded and smiled, sighing deeply as he pressed into the warmth of his lover, ignoring his wet clothing and the smiles people were giving them. Plenty of time to be presentable and dignified elven lords; right now he just wanted his lover.

~~~~~~~~~~

Night had fallen upon the city. Snow had fallen all day, but the heaviest had been in the early morning. Turgon gave an unannounced dinner in his hall for the twelve households; singing and dancing had taken place soon afterwards. Unable to resist the urge to play in the white cold, the elflings had all run outside; young Erestor had taken it upon himself to watch over Eärendil, much to his parents’ pride and Idril’s pleasure. Once again, Glorfindel, Ecthelion, Rog and Egalmoth found themselves engaged in another snow fight, except this time Penlod, Duilin and even Turgon had decided to join them.

It was sometime later before Glorfindel and Ecthelion could get away, retreating to the House of the Golden Flower and the privacy of Glorfindel’s chambers. After a warm bath, the lovers sat before the roaring fire as they shared a bed sheet and a few glasses of spiced wine. Glorfindel had his arm draped loosely about Ecthelion’s waist, whilst the other leaned into his embrace, pressing their bare skins together.

“The perfect end to a perfect day,” Ecthelion murmured over the rim of his glass. He lifted his eyes and smiled at his lover.

“Aye, perfect indeed,” Glorfindel replied before placing his glass on the hearth, taking a hold of Ecthelion’s half-finished flute and putting it away as well. Wrapping both arms around his lover, he pulled the raven-haired elf close as he pressed their lips together. Glorfindel smiled into the kiss when he heard Ecthelion moan softly as slender fingers weaved into his hair, playing with the slightly damp tresses. His hands roamed eagerly over the alabaster skin of his lover’s back, drawing Ecthelion closer and deepening their kiss.

The sheet slipped from their shoulders, falling to the furs they were situated upon as Glorfindel turned, lowering his lover upon Ecthelion was lying upon his back. He dipped his head, golden hair hiding both their faces from view, as his lips claimed a patch of skin upon Ecthelion’s neck, suckling and nipping lightly. His hands traveled lower, brushing lightly over the creamy skin in whispering caresses. Soon they encountered the evidence of Ecthelion’s attraction, one hand gentllminlming the hardening erection.

“Meleth…”

The whisper in his ear and the caresses to his hair were enough to cause Glorfindel to grow erect. He lifted his head, giving one quick kiss before moving lower. Straddling the slender hips of the raven-haired elf, his tongue darted out, the very tip ghosting over the smooth skin. When he came upon his love’s already weeping erection, a predatory look came into Glorfindel’s eyes. His tongue darted out again, wetting his lower lip re hre his head descended and lips closed over the hard column.

He felt himself drowning in sensation, and Ecthelion found he had to force himself not to thrust his hips upward as Glorfindel took him in deeper. Closing his eyes, a rosy flush colored his cheeks as his lover withdrew, only to take his member in again. He felt a shiver run down his spine as the golden-haired elf began to hum as he repeated his movements, the vibrations sending the most exquisite of sensatiooursoursing through him, heating his blood. A questing finger, slick with oil, pressed against his entrance, massaging the guardian ring; he didn’t know where the oil came from, nor did he care as Ecthelion felt something in him tighten with impending release. With a muffled cry, Ecthelion came, spilling himself down Glorfindel’s throat, who promptly and eagerly licked him clean.

“Malthener,” he panted, his eyelids feeling heavy as tremors ran through him.

“Here,” came Glorfindel’s whispered reply as he crawled upward. He smiled dotingly down at his lover before claiming another kiss. Arms slid about his neck, and he allowed himself to be tugged downward, his erect member pressing against Ecthelion’s thigh. Slipping from the kiss, Glorfindel nipped at an earlobe before suckling lightly on an ear tip. A smile formed around the delicate point as he heard, and felt, Ecthelion inhale sharply, his lover’s member slowly becoming erect once again.

“Have me, meleth,” came the almost pleading whisper. “Have me as you will.”

“Then I shall, vanimaer,” Glorfindel replied. He kissed his love again, plundering the warm and willing mouth as it opened to him, allowing his tongue entrance. Another sparred with his own as each elf fought for dominance, but Ecthelion gave him the victory. A whimper sounded, expressing both elves’ needs and desires though neither was sure who made the sound.

Without breaking the kiss, Glorfindel sought blindly for the crystal vial of oil resting upon the hearth. Finding it, he allowed more of the slick, scented substance to spill onto his hand. Quickly, almost impatiently, he coated himself, allowing the warmth of his skin to further heat the oil. Dipping his head, Glorfindel began to lazily suck on the skin of Ecthelion’s neck, forcing back the urge to just take his lover. With deliberate patience, his oiled fingers again sought out the entrance to the other elf’s body, probing the entrance before pressing inwards. First one, then two fingers dipped inside, stretching and scissoring.

“Ai!” Ecthelion nearly jumped when his prostate was brushed. Seeking more of the pleasurable waves that rippled through his body from the contact, he pressed back against the questing fingers, seeking to feel more. But he was denied as they removed themselves, but the whimper on his lips turned into a hiss of pleasure as something more t ret replaced them.

“Ecthelion…”

Gray-blue eyes gazed into darkened sapphire. The lovers stared at one another, mesmerized by the glow of love they saw in the others eyes and illuminating their person. Moving slowly so as not to break the intimacy of the moment, Glorfindel sought out Ecthelion’s hand, entwining their fingers until it was almost impossible to tell where one ended and another began. Slowly, his gaze still locked on his lover’s, he pressed inward, never ceasing his movement until he was fully sheathed. Both elves inhaled deeply at the feeling of being joined together once again.

“Meleth?”

“Aye, vanimaer?”

“Kiss me.”

“With pleasure.” He claimed those lips again, drinking deeply from them as if her were dying and they were the only things able to slack his thirst. Slowly he pulled away, nearly pulling out completely but then Glorfindel pressed back in, groaning deeply as the smooth, velvet walls of his lover encased him again. One of Ecthelion’s slender legs lifted, draping over his waist and driving him deeper, drawing keening mews from both of them.

His pace quickened as he moved them both closer to their climax. Glorfindel felt overwhelmed by their joining, their shared love. This joining felt so much more intense than any they had previously. Valar how he loved this elf! He held on tightly to the hands entwined with his own, his golden hair sweeping about them as they moved in their lovemaking. Prying one of his hands free of Ecthelion’s vice-like grip, Glorfindel brushed his palm over the quivering, flushed skin of the other elf before wrapping around the weeping member.

All coherent thought fled the moment their bodies had joined. To Ecthelion nothing existed save for Glorfindel. All he could see was the lust darkened sapphire eyes, the golden hair gone wild in their passion, the flushed skin which felt warm to the touch. His body surrendered to each loving touch the golden elf bestowed upon him, each kiss and caress. When he felt his flesh being wrapped in warm, slender fingers, Ecthelion cried out then, arching his back and driving Glorfindel deeper into his body. Blood pounded in his ears as his raced through his veins. Then a blinding light, his orgasm sweeping through him as he spilt himself over his lover’s hand.

Ecthelion rode out the waves of his release, his body trembling; he heard Glorfindel call his name as his lover found release, spilling himself deep within Ecthelion’s body. He opened his arms, welcoming the weight of his lover’s body as Glorfindel fell forward, unable to support himself any longer. For long, content moments neither spoke, the only sound was the crackling of the wood in the fire.

“I love you,” the Fountain lord whispered into a delicately pointed ear before kissing a handful of golden hair.

“And I, you.” Glorfindel smiled, shakily moving to his elbows as he slowly withdrew from his lover’s body. Rolling onto his side, he brought Ecthelion with him, drawing the other elf closer and tucking the dark head underneath his chin. “I love you more than anything.”

“Meleth…” He sighed contently, closing his eyes whilst pulling the discarded sheet about them. For one day, the world meant nothing, the darkness that threatened their very existence did not exist. Opening his eyes for a moment, Ecthelion sought out the window, smiling at the snowflakes he saw falling. Closing his eyes again, he snuggled deeper into the warmth of his lover’s arms, feeling the kiss upon his head. He thanked the Valar for the blessed snow-filled winter day before sleep claimed him, driving away all dark thoughts and replacing them with love and peace.