Just a Few Precious Hours

Author: Erviniae
Email: pmir64@yahoo.com
Beta: Chloe_Amethyst
Rating: R
Pairing: Melpomaen/Lindir
Warnings: Angsty humor
Request: Written for Ardor in August story exchange
Summary: Melpomaen is worked to his last nerve as he prepares Imladris for an upcoming majority celebration.


Imladris, T.A. 180

The House was filled to its capacity with Elves. In two days time, the twin sons of Elrond would finally reach their majority. Finally, that word was duly noted by those who resided in the fair vale, due to their surviving the upbringing of two extremely inquisitive and often mischievous heirs to Imladris: Lords Elladan and Elrohir, the latter older by a mere 5 minutes. Actually, Elrond often doubted which twin was which due to their near indistinguishable features at birth. Therefore Elladan may really be Elrohir or vice-versa, but at this stage the point was mute.

Celebrían had the ingenious idea of placing a red beaded bracelet of exquisite rubies around the ankle of the eldest, while the younger would receive a bracelet of precious pearls. She had painstakingly crafted them herself whilst carrying Elrond's seed, and in the rush of their births, her husband forgot to place them directly on the babes until after they were already placed next to one another in the cradle. It was a secret that Elrond would keep to himself for all time. He had seen his mother-in-law's wrath too many times to risk seeing the same trait come bellowing out of his precious wife. Frankly, he had no idea how Celeborn put up with her at times...

Those thoughts lead him into the present and panic began to surge forth from his very being. "Melpomaen!" yelled Elrond across the yard as he sat deep in thought on his private balcony.

A startled seneschal, who was in the midst of a sensual kiss upon his beloved's sweet lips, accidentally bit down hard drawing a yelp from the one whom he loved more than life itself. "Oh, my love, forgive me, here, let me get that for you." Melpomaen proceeded to procure a lavender scented handkerchief from deep within the folds of his robe, handing it to Lindir who had tears in his eyes from the sudden sting of the bite. The minstrel could feel his lip begin to swell immediately.

"Oh dear, do go to the kitchens and put a cold rag on your lip while I see to Elrond's needs." Melpomaen quickly kissed Lindir's cheek as he watched him walk towards the back of the house.

"Mel-po- ma...." Elrond began a second yell only to have the seneschal stand before him in a rush of robes.

"My lord?" He bowed his head in respect and inwardly groaned at the look in his lord's eyes. He only had that look when one thing or another overly troubled him.

"Ah, there you are," Elrond replied expectedly. "Have you seen to the rooms of the Lord and Lady of The Golden Wood?"

"Yes, my lord, they are ready." Melpomaen eyed his lord warily as Elrond leaned forward and wiped his lip with his finger.

"Are you bleeding?"

"No, no...it was....I just...it is nothing, my Lord Elrond." Melpomaen sighed deeply. He was not allowing Elrond to treat him for anything this day. Truly, for all his wondrous ways, his lord obsessed with the health of those in his care. In actuality he was convinced that Elrond had a wee bit of sadism in him whereupon healing was concerned.

"Have you gone over the supplies with Erestor?"

"Yes, my lord. Everything is accounted for. Worry not. The celebration shall be grand." Melpomaen tried to reassure his lord.

Elrond nodded absently then asked the same question again. Melpomaen wanted to grab his lord and shake him but instead kindly reassured him for a second time: It would not be the last.

"Very well, good, then go... do...something...," Elrond waved his hand as he walked into his rooms.

Melpomaen ran his hands through his hair. For nigh a year now he was summoned with plans and questions for this majority celebration. He could not wait for the day to come and go. He quickly walked towards the main house in search of his lover once again. Finally, a chance to be alone. He knew that Lindir had a few hours in between lessons and practices, a few precious hours for them to spend blissfully alone. He worried now about his beloved's lip. Would it be too swollen for him to sing properly? He rounded the last hallway towards Lindir's room, the sound of his lyre playing softly in the breeze. The thought of Lindir naked and wearing naught but that instrument, his long hair flowing down a strong back, brought a shiver of delight to the seneschal's groin. How he longed to bury his face in those silken locks, to inhale the smell of resin and morning dew, to have his little minstrel sing the song that only he could bring forth from those full red lips.... As his hand reached for the door handle, a voice called after him.

"Ah, Melpomaen, I have been looking for you for hours!" came the frazzled voice of Elrond's chief counselor, Erestor. Melpomaen rolled his eyes at the exaggeration.

"I have been searching for the lists to check that we have enough to feed and house all our guests, especially those Lórien Elves. You know how they love our wine. Anyway, have you seen them? The lists? Elrond will have my head if I do not sit with him this afternoon and go over it thrice. I have searched everywhere and they are lost. Honestly, I would swear someone is sabotaging this feast! It is probably that damned Glorfindel; sleep with an Elf once and they think they own you." Erestor sighed exasperatedly.

Melpomaen's eyes widened at that admission, for Glorfindel was happily betrothed to a dear friend of Celebrían's for half a year now. 'Wait until I tell Lindir that little tidbit,' he thought.

"Don't just stand there, help me search this house!" Erestor glared. Melpomaen gulped. That glare could melt stone. He began to follow Erestor down the hall towards their offices when the door to Lindir's room opened ever slightly.

"Mel?" Lindir whispered.

Melpomaen turned and stared regretfully at his heart's desire. "I'm sorry," he mouthed.

"I know," sighed Lindir as he then flashed a naked thigh out the doorway. Melpomaen grinned and blew a kiss towards Lindir who caught it and blew one back.

"Mel!" Erestor yelled once more. Melpomaen ran down the hall to catch up to the counselor.

"I'm coming," Melpomaen replied, then under his breath added, "I wish."

Lindir dressed in wine colored hose and threw on a yellow tunic over a white shirt. Sliding on his house shoes, he decided to go to the hall where the celebration would be held and look over the musician's area. All thoughts of having a splendid afternoon of love were now over. He needed to be gone from his rooms or else he would go mad from desire.

Taking up his lyre he began to weave a tune. He became lost in it as he often did while he pined over his lover and what he meant to him. Lindir was born into Gildor's Wandering Company of Elves where he quickly learned that music was what his heart desired. Even as an elfling all were amazed at how quickly Lindir seemed to master any instrument put in his path. His voice as beautiful as a clear, star filled night. Any who listened to it felt they were as within a dream. Unfortunately, Lindir's father was killed in a skirmish with Orcs and his mother, who was lost in her grief, decided to sail for the Undying Lands, but not before she bade Gildor promise to take her son to live in Imladris, where all who resided there were under the protection of Lord Elrond and his ring, Vilya.

At first, Lindir found it hard to stay in his new home. So used to wandering was he, that he often took walks for hours around the surrounding land, his heart filled with melancholy; until one day he came upon a sleeping Elf who was deep in the forest as well. Lindir recognized him immediately as Lord Elrond's highly efficient seneschal, Melpomaen. He thought the seneschal a handsome Elf and was fascinated by the darker hues of the Noldor that made up the majority of the Elves in Imladris. He watched the Elf in repose, beacons of fading light highlighting his auburn hair as it peeked through the canopy of the trees. A gentle breeze blew tendrils of the soft hair across the sleeping Elf's face: a pink mouth open gently, the line of his long neck, the collar of his tunic opened to show a patch of pale skin, and eyes that were twinkling... and looking straight at him!

"Do you often watch Elves sleeping upon the forest floor?" Melpomaen sat up as he said this, a teasing lilt to his voice.

"Nay, my lord, forgive the intrusion," Lindir managed to blurt out as his face filled with the embarrassment he felt.

"I am no lord, Lindir," Melpomaen patted the ground next to him in a gesture for the minstrel to sit. Seeing the hesitation, he held out his hand for Lindir to take. Tenderly his hand was given as he sat next to the seneschal in one fluid and elegant motion. "Please call me by my title, or as I would prefer, my given name."

Lindir blushed even more and nodded, suddenly feeling shy. "You miss your life as it used to be, do you not?" Melpomaen was ever perceptive.

"I do." Came the sullen reply. "I find the house at times confining. Though it is open and light, I miss the wind upon my face and the comfort within the trees."

Melpomaen just nodded his understanding. "I come here to find a bit of sanity and tranquility myself, dear Lindir. I would be honored if you would decide to join me in my retreats, whenever you so wish, of course."

Lindir smiled. It was the most beautiful smile Melpomaen ever saw, and answered with a quiet, "I would love to."

Thus began a true friendship. They often stole to their quiet retreat and spoke for hours at a time; or sometimes Lindir would sing softly as Melpomaen lightly dozed to the enchanting sound. They began to seek each other out while in the house as well and soon became inseparable. Rumors began to abound about this close friendship that had developed between this unlikely pair. Until one evening while in the company of others in the Hall of Fire, Lindir began to sing a newly composed song. The melody Melpomaen recognized as one Lindir often hummed during their private retreats:

No more talk of darkness
Forget these wide-eyed fears
I'm here
Nothing can harm you
My words will warm and calm you
Let me be your freedom
Let daylight dry your tears
I'm here
With you, beside you
To guard you and to guide you

Say you love me every weakening moment
Turn my head with talk to summertime
Say you need me with you now and always
Promise me that all you say is true
That's all I ask of you

Let me be your shelter
Let me be your light
You're safe
No one will find you
Your fears are far behind you

All I want is freedom
A world with no more night
And you
Always beside me
To hold me and to hide me

Then say you'll share with me one love,
One lifetime
Let me lead you from your solitude
Say you want me
And you need me
Beside you
Anywhere you go, let me go too
That's all I ask of you

Say you'll share with me one love
One lifetime
Say the word and I will follow you
Share each day with me,
Each night, each morning
Say you love me
You know I do
Love me, that's all I ask you
Love me, that's all I ask of you *

Towards the end of the song, Lindir's voice began to crack as he looked deeply into Melpomaen's brown eyes, shining with emotion, shining with love. Lindir walked slowly over to the Elf who now owned his heart, fear of rejection in his eyes. Melpomaen placed a strong hand on either side of Lindir's sweet face as his lips closed gently upon those before him. Lindir was shaking from within, "I love you, I do," was whispered against his soft lips to which he smiled brightly as Melpomaen led his new lover out of the Hall and into the corridor.

All in the Hall of Fire stood with their mouths agape. "So, the rumors are true." Celebrían sighed dreamily as she leaned upon her husband at the site before her.

"Indeed." Elrond stared after them in astonishment.

They knew not how they made it to Lindir's room. All they remembered was closing the door behind them and soon they were entangled in a ravenous kiss. Their hands worshiped, their lips spoke endearments of love and lust. Their bodies pressed flush against the other as their burgeoning erections rubbed together through the fabric of their clothing, delicious and frustrating at the same time. Lindir soon tore off Melpomaen's robes and had his mouth instantly upon the exposed flesh. Melpomaen groaned in desire. "Yours...off," he began to pull Lindir's tunic over his silver hair but met with resistance.

"Ow...ow...wait...ow...," Lindir cried out. Melpomaen stopped his movements as he saw his beloved stuck within his tunic, his long hair entangled within the buttons.

"Hold on love, I will get this off of you."

Every time Melpomaen tried to loosen Lindir from the garment, his hair became entangled more until Lindir began to laugh at the predicament they were in. "Stop...stop!" He laughed as Melpomaen began to chuckle as well and fell upon the bed in a fit of laughter that had him doubling over holding onto his stomach.

Through much tugging and not a few strands of silver hair ripped out, Lindir managed to untangle himself and launched himself at his new lover. "You think that was funny do you?" and soon Lindir and Melpomaen were falling and then rolling in fits upon the floor. Mel was immediately assailed by Lindir's very deft fingers, which were finding all his ticklish spots mercilessly. They both lay upon the floor, hair wild, and clothes in disarray, struggling for breath as they realized that they still had yet to make love.

"Well," Melpomaen huffed out of breath, "if this is our foreplay, I hate to see the condition we will be in after we are spent from pleasure." ?

Those words went straight to Lindir's groin, and the younger Elf straddled Melpomaen as he hastily pulled off his leggings, revealing a long and sleek cock that was bobbing methodically against the minstrel's belly. He then helped Melpomaen out of his robes and growled when that only revealed another layer of clothing. He tore off Melpomaen's undershirt and lifted himself up so that Melpomaen could lower his leggings, letting spring forth a hard and formidable erection. Taking both their erections in hand, Melpomaen stroked them both until they spent loudly, their seed spilling between their taut abdomens. Sweaty and messy, Melpomaen held Lindir against his chest, stroking his hair sweetly.

"I not only found my dearest friend that day in the forest so many years ago, I found my heart as well." Lindir kissed the chest before him.

"I love you now and forever," Melpomaen whispered into the soft tangle of silver hair.

"Melpomaen are you listening to me?" Snapped Erestor as he clapped his hands in front of the seneschal's vacant eyes.

"Yes, my lord, forgive me, I was elsewhere for a moment." Melpomaen smiled at his thoughts.

Erestor gave him a strange look and motioned to him to start hunting for the missing lists. As Erestor stood upon his toes to reach a high shelf filled with parchment overhead, Melpomaen espied a small scroll that was rolled and sticking out of a fold within Erestor's robe.

"My lord, your pocket."

"What?"

"Your pocket." Melpomaen pointed to the counselor's side as he shook his head openly and sighed.

Erestor reached down and pulled out the missing lists. "Thank you, you may go."

Melpomaen turned and left, he knew better than to say anything else where Erestor was concerned. "I wonder how he dresses in the morning...," he spoke to himself as he walked back to Lindir's room, hoping to catch him still there.

Knocking lightly, then opening the door, he called out for his beloved to no avail. He decided to try the kitchens, but upon sticking his head in the door, he found himself ducking out of the way of an errant dish. "It would seem that that dish was unacceptable?" teased Melpomaen as he was about to ask if Lindir had been seen there when he was suddenly in the middle of a huge fight between the head cook and one of Lord Celeborn's personal cooks, who had come a week early to help prepare the feast.

"This is the only way to cook pheasant, in Lothlórien we--" began Lord Celeborn's cook.

"Bah, you are not in Lothlórien, but Imladris, and here we do not add cinnamon to game!" The head cook yelled loudly.

Melpomaen stepped between them, "BE QUIET," he yelled to which all in the kitchen did so to the point where nary a sound could be heard except for the boiling of water. "Now, you shall each make the pheasant the way you please, this way both realms shall be satisfied."

Both cooks began to protest to which Melpomaen held up his hand. "And if I hear one more ill word coming from this kitchen, I shall hand you both over to Master Erestor, have I made myself clear?"

"Aye," came the hushed reply, as both knew of the punishments that Elrond's chief advisor could hand out to the household staff if Melpomaen's words were not heeded.

"Good." Melpomaen left in a huff.

He was mumbling to himself as he headed towards the great hall whereupon the feast would be held. Hearing the sounds of musicians readying to play, he stopped and watched as Lindir stood before his fellows, leading them in their sweet sounds. Sneaking quietly into a chair, Melpomaen took a minute to relax and watch his lover work. His eyes followed the line of his lover's legs: legs that he wanted wrapped around him, over pert buttocks that he wanted to squeeze, a flat belly that he wished to lick, a long neck that was begging for his lips and a delicately pointed ear that he desired to suckle upon. Finding his arousal growing, Melpomaen decided to clear his throat loudly, which earned a gaze in his direction from all there, however, the smile he received from his lover, only served to add to his burgeoning problem.

"I think we shall break for dinner," Lindir told his colleagues. He pivoted on his left foot and walked seductively towards his best friend and lover.

Melpomaen grabbed Lindir by the hips so that he landed upon his lap. Their lips met in a fevered kiss while Lindir felt his love's desire beneath him. Rubbing him slightly, Melpomaen gasped and moaned into that delightful mouth on his. "Is this for me?" Lindir breathed seductively against his lover's ear.

Melpomaen was about to answer when a rush of twin blurs burst into the great hall. Tall, well built blurs, capable of doing much harm to each other, as a matter of fact. "Elladan! Give it back!" laughed Elrohir as he somehow managed to leap into the air and landed head first, not into his twin's legs, which he intended to tackle, but into the legs of a nearby table.

Elladan continued to laugh until he saw that his brother was definitely dazed and in for a whopper of a headache. "Damn," was the reply from Melpomaen who immediately stood and nodded to Lindir who went to fetch a healer.

"Elrohir, say something," worried Elladan as Melpomaen grabbed the standing twin by his pointed ear and pointed him to a chair. "SIT!" Elladan did as told.

"Really Elladan, you would think that you and Elrohir were but elflings of twenty and not about to represent Imladris as heirs to Lord Elrond!" Melpomaen helped Elrohir sit up ever gently as Elrohir groaned and grabbed his head that was now sporting a nice yellowing bump.

Lindir led Elrond into the great hall as he knelt before his sons and examined Elrohir expertly.

"Do you know your name?" he asked his son.

"Elladan," replied Elrohir smugly.

"Oh, very funny. You shall be just fine. Now let us go and place a cool cloth on this." Elrond and Melpomaen helped Elrohir up as Elrond gestured for Elladan to follow. They heard Elrond chastising his sons all the way to the healing rooms.

Just as they were about to kiss again, the bell chimed for dinner. Melpomaen groaned in frustration. Lindir sweetly smoothed back his beloved's hair. "When all of this is over we shall be together my love." Melpomaen grabbed Lindir's hand and kissed the palm softly.

The night of the celebration was finally at hand. Elladan and Elrohir stood before all of Imladris and some of Lothlórien dressed in splendid robes of deepest blue. Their hair had been braided with an intricate weave of rubies for Elladan and pearls for Elrohir. Or at least Elrond thought it was the correct twin who had the right gem. They looked every bit the heirs to Imladris: regal and proud. None could notice the faded bump upon Elrohir's head or the scraped knee he now sported under his leggings from jumping off of one of the highest balconies on a dare by his brother that very morn.

All congratulated Elrond on his grown sons and how well they would represent Imladris, to which Melpomaen inwardly chuckled at the thought. During a break in his duties, he finally sat back near the balcony and watched the festivities while sipping at a well-deserved glass of wine.

He snickered at seeing Elrond fidget nervously whenever he was close to Galadriel, while at the same time he was surprised at how Galadriel served Celeborn, for they obviously had a deep respect and love for one another. Celeborn's hand was often on the small of her back.

His eyes then found Glorfindel who was in a corner talking excitedly with a few of the Lórien Elves who had accompanied their Lord and Lady. He noted how Glorfindel's eyes often strayed towards the figure of Erestor, who was shamelessly flirting with the Marchwarden Haldir. Jealousy flared within the reborn warrior's eyes. 'Interesting, indeed,' he thought to himself.

He then espied Lindir walking towards him. He was dressed in a lovely outer robe of green with elegant silver embroidery upon each sleeve in the pattern of twining vines that matched his hair. His under-dress was of lightest yellow, his face smiling and flush, both from compliments and performing. The musicians continued to play without him as he took a much deserved break. Melpomaen retrieved a glass of wine and handed it to Lindir after receiving a quick kiss. "Well done, my love." Lindir smiled as he surveyed the room once more.

"There is still one more thing left to do." Melpomaen took Lindir's hand leading him towards the balcony. Ever curious, Lindir's face showed his puzzlement easily. Melpomaen would have laughed except for the fast beating of his heart. Stopping in the farthest corner of the balcony, Melpomaen reached a hand into his pocket and retrieved a small blue velvet pouch. Lindir's eyes were fixed on the pouch even as Melpomaen took hold of Lindir's right hand.

"Lindir, you are my dearest friend and lover. Without you my world would cease to be; you complete me. I would be honored if you would share your life with me for all time and betroth yourself to me." Lindir's eyes were glistening with unshed tears of joy as his lover spoke.

"Yes, a thousand times yes...." He spoke with such tenderness, such love, as Melpomaen gently let go of Lindir's hand, opened the pouch, and placed a silver ring of promise upon his finger. He handed the other ring to Lindir who then placed it upon his own.

Their lips met tenderly while a faint white glow began surrounding them completely, a sign of a blessed union. No one else existed in that moment but the two on the balcony. Hesitantly pulling away, Lindir smiled wide while smoothing his beloved's face and sighed, "Well done, indeed."

The End

All I ask of You- music and lyrics composed by Andrew Lloyd Webber