Title: Worthwhile

Author: Khylea

Rating: NC-17 for smex

Pairing: Ecthelion/Glorfindel

Timeline: First Age, Setting: Gondolin

Archive: Feel free, just drop me a URL where I can visit it please sl_chester@hotmail.com

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. J.R.R. Tolkien does....I make no profit, yadayadayada. I think we all know the drill, right?

Dedication: For Tuxedo Elf.

Feedback: sl_chester@hotmail.com

Beta: Manon the Magnificent

Summary: Glorfindel has a secret admirer. What happens when they choose to reveal themselves?

Prologue:

He didn’t know exactly when the feelings had begun to change. Nor did he know how, or truth be told, why. The prohibitions were there for a reason, he knew. Fraternizing between dissimilar ranks could cause hard feelings, cries of favoritism, or even dangerous distractions. But develop they had, and neither the Lord of the Fountain nor the future Lord of the Golden Flower had been able to stop them.

To those who saw only the public side of their relationship, cries of favoritism would never be heard. Ecthelion did not go easy on his favorite student and star pupil, Glorfindel. If anything, he pushed him harder than the others, seeing the greatness in him and wanting to bring it forth. And if truth be told, there were selfish reasons as well. Reasons of wanting to see the one he secretly loved always prepared, always safe, able to meet any threat that might come to him bravely and without flinching.

But to the select few who saw the private side of their beloved captain, who did not believe that rules should come before matters of the heart, Ecthelion seemed an entirely different elf. He was not lighthearted, and probably never could be, as he was privy to far too much of the darkness of the world. But there was a levity to his step, he was far more likely to smile than to frown, far more likely to engage in some light conversation when his favorite elf was close to him.

And then there were the gifts. Always given anonymously so as not to make the one he secretly desired uncomfortable with his attentions when they had to meet as captain and soldier. They were never lavish gifts, as neither elf had much use for such things. And gifts that were too lavish might draw unwanted attention. The gifts were small but thoughtful: his patrol boots re-soled when Ecthelion saw they were growing thin; his bathing chamber always remained fully stocked with the aromatic bathing oils he favored, and when Ecthelion discovered the golden one’s penchant for sweets, made sure a honey pastry or some other delicacy made its way to his room each night.

At first, Glorfindel did everything he could to try to determine from whom the gifts were coming, even going so far as to examine the patrol schedules to see if he could see a pattern in a certain elf being on patrol and the gifts stopping for a few days. But his mystery admirer was always a few steps ahead of him, and when Ecthelion realized the patrol rosters went missing now and then, suspected what Glorfindel was doing, and arranged for the gifts to arrive even when he was gone.

Finally Glorfindel resigned himself to the mystery, hoping his secret friend would reveal her or himself one day. The aggravation at not knowing who was behind the gifts gradually gave way to simple enjoyment and appreciation for them. They were always well thought out, taking care of a need or desire almost before he had even noticed he had it. Though he did not realize it at the time, they filled the role Ecthelion had intended for them. Glorfindel did not know who they were from, but whoever it was clearly cared for him, and the gifts made him feel loved, made him feel important to this mystery elf.

And Ecthelion, surprisingly, found the mystery gift giving satisfying in its own way. The smile on the beautiful golden face, the musical laughter when a special gift the night before had been exceptionally well thought of, went a long way toward easing his longing at not being able to openly be with the one he desired.

But as the months passed, he saw how the other young warriors began developing relationships with other ellons or ellith, depending on where their preferences ran, while his Glorfindel retired each night alone, and he began to wonder at the wisdom of keeping his affections secret. Was Glorfindel holding himself away, saving his heart, his body, for the one who provided the gifts he had come to cherish so? It appeared that way. And that was exactly what Ecthelion did not want. He wanted to show Glorfindel that he was loved, but not to the exclusion of others.

Finally, after a few more painful weeks of seeing Glorfindel become more and more melancholy in his loneliness, even the gifts failing to break through the haze of his depression at being alone, he determined it was time to reveal himself, consequences be damned. They could keep it secret, but he would not make his beloved Glorfindel suffer through any more loneliness. Winter solstice was quickly approaching, a holiday that was to be filled with love and laughter. With drinking and celebrating and enjoying the company of friends and lovers. Not a night to be spent alone in one’s quarters, brooding, as he knew Glorfindel would do.

He smiled as he went about setting his plan into action. Yes, this would do....this would do very well indeed......

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Chapter 1:

Glorfindel sighed deeply as he took one last look at himself in the mirror. Protocol dictated that he attend Lord Turgon’s Winter Solstice celebration. And protocol unfortunately also dictated that he stay more than the few minutes he would have liked to stay. Truth be told, he loathed these get-togethers. Loathed having to smile and act gracious and cordial to half-drunk diplomats and warriors whose tongues, and hands, tended to loosen after a few cups of ale. He was considered one of Gondolin’s most eligible, and most elusive, bachelors and grew weary of having to decline yet another invitation to “climb to the highest towers to gaze at the moon” as the more tactful suitors put it, or to explain to the well-meaning but overly nosy lords and ladies why he was as of yet unattached.

Because how could he explain? How could he explain that the only one he wanted was one of the few he could never have? How could he explain his longing for his captain? His desire to feel Ecthelion’s hands on his body, his dulcet voice whispering sweet nothings in his ear, his ample shaft in Glorfindel’s untried young body?

Glorfindel vaguely wondered if it was a kindness or a cruelty to have to see his secret desire nearly every day. To have to endure watching him lead a training session wearing nothing more than a snug pair of leggings and knee-high boots, his bare chest glistening in the sun. To listen to his praise and respond with nothing more than a respectful ‘Thank you, Captain.’ And worst of all, to see his glorious body in all its splendor on the occasions when Ecthelion forsook his own private bath to bathe at the end of the day with his recruits.

The running joke on such occasions was that Glorfindel clearly had a much higher need for cleanliness than the average elf, as he lingered in the water until everyone else had left. But what they did not know was that far from cleansing himself, he needed the time to himself to take care of the need that seeing his captain’s naked body had made him feel. Or at the very least, to be able to dress without the others seeing his raging erection if self-pleasure was not what he desired.

He sighed again as he brushed a few specks of lint off his snow-white tunic and began plaiting his hair in formal braids. He had to admit, the tunic was one of the better gifts from his mystery suitor. The gold trim and embroidery matched his hair perfectly, and paired with a set of light blue leggings and black boots, he looked stunning.

On most occasions, he would not take so much time with his appearance, as he could care less whether anyone thought he looked stunning. But he had grown weary of the mysterious nature of his admirer and was determined to find them out and put a stop to this nonsense. It was his hope that by looking as irresistible as he possibly could, it would cause the secret elf to reveal him or herself in hopes of snaring such a vision of beauty. And when that happened, he would tell the elf that the gifts were lovely, but his heart had already been given to another, and that they must stop immediately.

Because as the weeks progressed, he had found the gifts to be more and more depressing. At first, they had been fun and exciting, an enjoyable puzzle to try to decipher, and he found puzzles irresistible. But each new gift only served to remind him of how the gift-giver was not the one he wanted it to be. Was not the one he pined over, the one he pictured in his mind as he brought himself to a much-needed release.

It could not be Ecthelion. That was not the captain’s style; he was far too honest and forthright to resort to such things. If he wanted something, or someone, he went after them with an almost ruthless honesty that few could resist. And even were he not such, Glorfindel could not make himself believe that Gondolin’s most renowned captain could possibly be interested in a young ward of a minor house. There were so many others who had more beauty, more skill in battle, and far more diplomatic skills than Glorfindel, and most of them had had their eye on the Lord of the Fountain for many years. He could have his pick, why would he be interested in a young trainee, only a handful of years past his majority?

But knowing Ecthelion could never be interested in him did little to stop his yearnings for his captain. He watched him teaching the young trainees a new skill, his actions graceful and effortless while the others struggled. But in his admiration, Glorfindel forgot one very important thing; that Ecthelion only looked graceful and effortless because he had years of practice, that he had been as awkward and unskilled as any trainee when he was first learning as well.

Sighing once more and slipping on his delicate mithril circlet, the symbol of his house, he checked his tunic once more for lint, and strapped his ceremonial dagger onto his right hip. It was already dusk, the celebration was well underway now. Turgon was for the most part a kind and benevolent king, but he could have a violent temper when he was angered, and Glorfindel had no desire to test his king’s patience by arriving too late or, worse yet, not at all. Wishing once more that the night might end in his beloved captain’s arms, he set out toward the party.

He stopped outside the double doors, hearing the music and revelry carrying out into the street. Steeling himself, he pushed the doors open and entered, and in spite of his wish to be anywhere but here, could not help but smile. The throne room had been converted to an elegant banquet room for the residents of the hidden city. There were swags of fresh evergreens strung along the sides, decorated with painted pine cones and clusters of fresh picked cranberries. A large fire was stoked in a fire pit at each end of the hall, lending warmth and light to the celebrations. And every few inches along the walls, candles and torches were lit, bathing the room in bright, welcoming light. Along both walls were tables laid out with all manner of delicacies, fresh fruits and steamed vegetables, roasted pig and venison, baked goods, sauces and seasonings, wine and miruvor and ale. But what most impressed the young elf was the enormous Yule tree standing proudly in the corner, its branches heavy with decorations of pine cones, ribbons, and candles, underneath piled high with gifts for the city’s residents.

Trees were a rare commodity in the hidden valley, most of them having been cleared years ago to make room for the fields needed to plant the crops for a growing population. Fires were usually made from dried livestock dung, which though it burned warmly and brightly, did not have the same fresh clean smell of a wood fire. But as he looked around, he realized that both of the large fires in the throne room were burning real wood. He took a deep breath, smiling slightly at the sweet smell of a real wood fire.

He still remembered his first Yule celebration in Gondolin. He had been stunned when he was told the celebration took place in the throne room, that Turgon felt it was the best way to show his subjects that though he was their leader, he did not consider himself any better than his warriors, or even those who cleaned the stables or repaired the cobblestone streets. And not only did the celebration take place in the throne room, with food and drink provided by the king, so that even the poorest resident might take part, there was always a small gift under the Yule tree for every resident of the hidden city. Elflings were told that the gifts were from the Valar, as their way of showing how much they loved their elven children. It was only later that the youngsters discovered the gifts were from their king himself, though it was understood you were never to let the king know you had found him out.

The gifts were never large, never expensive, a small hair clip for a young elleth with long hair, a new quill and inkwell for a scribe, a toy horse for an elfling, or a basket of food for a family that was struggling to get by. How Turgon could keep track of every resident of the city, much less what would be a useful gift for each one, only his closest advisors knew. But keep track of it he did, and there was always a gift for each person, even babes only a few days old. It was his way of including everyone in the Yule celebration, even those who had no family or friends to give them gifts.

Glorfindel made his way to the nearest banquet table, trying to ignore how conversation stopped when he approached, trying to ignore the looks of admiration, or naked lust. He knew he was beautiful, enough others had told him he was, and he would have had to be blind to not see that beauty in the mirror each day as he dressed. But he often wondered why Ilúvatar had gifted him with such beauty. Since he was a tiny elfling, he had known he wanted to be a warrior, to follow in his father’s footsteps, to protect lord and land. And what need did a warrior have for beauty? He would have much preferred a stronger sword arm, sharper mind, or quicker reflexes. That he was far from lacking in the strength of his sword arm, the sharpness or his mind, or the speed of his reflexes did not occur to him.

But what he didn’t realize, and neither did most of the others who gazed at him with such admiration, was that it was more than his beauty that made him appealing. It was his inner light, his gentle smile and kind ways, his grace and self confidence. He was destined for great things, destined to rule a powerful and influential house, to save his lord’s daughter and grandson, and one day, to perhaps save the world itself by rescuing a small being carrying a powerful, though terrible ring.

Of course, none who looked upon him knew any of this, knew of his death and subsequent rebirth in the later years of Middle Earth, but few could not sense that there was something different about the young elf. Something that made others gravitate toward him, even those much older and more experienced. And even those like Ecthelion, who had nearly dropped his wine glass in shock upon seeing the vision of beauty enter the hall.

He knew Glorfindel was beautiful, he had seen him many times in nothing but snug leggings and boots on the training field. His skin was not as pale as many other elves, instead it was a light golden brown that seemed to glow as if lit from within. His golden hair sparkled and reflected the candles and torches, his blue eyes, the color of a mountain stream, twinkled when he laughed or smiled, as he was doing now.

Ecthelion could not help but smile as Glorfindel did, finding enjoyment from something someone close to him said. The captain was glad to see the smile, because he knew Glorfindel loathed these get-togethers even more than he did. Both of them, and he suspected a great percentage of the other warriors, would have preferred a small gathering amongst friends, sharing a bottle of wine and a haunch of roasted venison around a campfire. But he was no more eager to incur the wrath of his king than Glorfindel had been, therefore he attended as well, and pretended to be having a good time.

He watched the young elf move through the crowd, seemingly completely as ease as he greeted the lords and ladies, patted the head of a rambunctious elfling, or talked for a moment with one of the other soldiers. But Ecthelion could see the tension in the way Glorfindel’s shoulders were slightly hunched, his eyes moving just a little too quickly, as if seeking an escape for their owner. It was time. If he could not free them from the agony of having to deal with this get-together, at least he could enjoy the closer company of a beautiful young warrior, and with any luck, Glorfindel would find spending time with his captain preferable to nobles he hardly knew.

Ecthelion moved through the crowd, and when he approached closer and saw that Glorfindel did not have anything to drink, made a slight detour to one of the buffet tables. Knowing the young elf’s preference for ale instead of wine or miruvor, he obtained a glass for each of them and resumed his slow meandering. To anyone who did not look closely, his wandering appeared to be quite aimless, but nevertheless, he never lost sight of his intended destination. He could not just very well march up to Glorfindel and pluck him from whatever conversation he might happen to be engaged in at that moment. No, no. That would not do at all. The Gondolin captain must make it appear as if he just happened to wander Glorfindel’s way. That was the proper way of doing things.

Finally, several minutes of slow and careful perusal of the crowd brought him to his destination, though he was careful to keep slightly turned away, so he might listen for a moment to the voice he so enjoyed hearing before being discovered. He chuckled as he recognized the story being recounted to a young lady that had asked about the scar on the side of Glorfindel’s neck. It was true that the knife wound had been serious, but the way Glorfindel was embellishing the tale, with the typical enthusiasm of the young, he made it seem as if he had come within an inch of his very life.

Another, less understanding captain may have interrupted him, insist he tell the story correctly or not at all, but Ecthelion simply listened to him telling it, fighting to hide his smile as embellishment shifted into flat-out falsehood . Finally, when it seemed he was finished, the young lady gazing at him with proper awe, Ecthelion turned and stepped closer, as if just arriving.

“Then truly it is remarkable you are even still among the living, Glorfindel,” he remarked loudly, handing him one of the cups of ale. “It is indeed fortunate that only three orcs attacked you, that the others were engaged with your fellows.”

The lady turned toward the legendary captain, her eyes shining in awe and admiration. “And did your party see to the disposal of the rest of the Orcs, my lord?” she asked with no small amount of awe.

“Aye, they did, my lady. We arrived just in the nick of time. Orcs are a foul sort you know, and only the bravest warriors fight more than one at a time.” He winked at Glorfindel when she turned again to face the golden elf, causing him to blush and stammer.

“Well, I....I had little choice. It is kill or be killed with those beasts.”

“Truly you are brave, Glorfindel.” She rose to the balls of her feet and quickly kissed his cheek, then scampered off to tell her friends about the remarkable story she had just heard about one of the city’s most eligible bachelors.

“Aye, truly you ARE brave, Glorfindel,” Ecthelion agreed when the lady had moved out of earshot. “But are you sure there were THREE orcs? I do believe last time you told that story there were two.” He grinned a little as Glorfindel blushed and looked down, suddenly finding his ale immensely fascinating. “Perhaps some day you will tell an eager young elleth that you actually received that wound on the practice field.”

Glorfindel’s head came up quickly, locking his gaze with Ecthelion’s. “I would be happy to, captain....and I will be sure to include the part about YOU being the one to inflict the injury when your sword slipped.”

“On the other hand,” Ecthelion replied, never missing a beat. “There is something to be said for impressing on the young females how we are always looking out for their safety by taking care of the foul orc threat.”

Glorfindel stared at his captain for a moment before starting to laugh. Ecthelion grinned also and sighed to himself at how the laughter lit up the young elf’s face. *Beautiful, truly beautiful.* he thought. After a moment, he clicked his glass against Glorfindel’s. “To always making the ellith think we are protecting them, even when our scars come from our own foolishness.” Glorfindel grinned and sipped his drink, his eyes scanning the hall.

Ecthelion watched him, seeing how even when he was off duty, it was in Glorfindel’s nature to be alert, to be aware of what was going on around him. He was sure if he asked, Glorfindel could tell him exactly how many elves were behind him and at what distances they were. He wasn’t sure if that made him happy or sad; Glorfindel hardly seemed to know how to relax.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Glorfindel?” he finally asked, causing the other to turn back to look at his captain.

“As my captain has often reminded us, in our service to our king, we often must do that which we would prefer not to.” He hesitated for a moment, sipping his wine. “If his majesty is happy, that is all that matters.”

“You did not answer the question,” Ecthelion pointed out.

“I believe my captain knows my answer,” Glorfindel said softly.

“Aye, that I do.....and share in that sentiment,” Ecthelion whispered, moving closer, delighting at how Glorfindel shivered at the proximity. “We have stayed long enough. I think perhaps it is time for a more....private....celebration now.”

Glorfindel turned, his bright blue eyes widening in shock as he took in the flames of desire on Ecthelion’s face. Innocent he may be, but was no fool to seduction....and that was exactly what his captain was doing. “As my captain wishes,” he murmured, moving closer.

Ecthelion hesitated for a moment before moving a step back. “No titles, Glorfindel. This is not an order from your captain. This is a request from a friend. A request you are to feel completely free to refuse if you wish. Your response will have no bearing on anything that happens between us as captain and trainee, understood?”

“I understand....Ecthelion,” Glorfindel whispered into his captain’s ear, causing the dark haired elf to shiver slightly at how his name sounded coming from the full lips.

“Then I....I have your answer?”

“You do.”

“Then meet me at the west end of the walkway overlooking the apple orchards. You know of this location?”

“I do.”

“Good. Meet me there in ten minutes.”

Glorfindel nodded and moved off into the center of the hall, his body still tingling from the look in Ecthelion’s eyes. He could not believe that what he had wanted for so long was finally to come true, though part of him was disappointed that he would have to wait still longer to determine who sent the gifts. As he silently slipped out the back entrance to the throne room and began making his way to the rendezvous spot, he briefly wondered exactly what Ecthelion had in mind. Surely not what he was dreaming of. No, that could not be. Most likely the captain would appropriate a bottle of mead and a haunch of roasted venison from the store rooms and they would drink and eat and talk until the sun rose. If he was lucky, perhaps there would even be a few kisses, maybe even a few touches from those wonderful hands. Which would be better than spending another few hours at the official Solstice party, but still. He wondered if he would ever have the one he so desired. With a deep sigh, he looked up at the moon and waited for his companion to arrive.

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Chapter 2:

Glorfindel was roused from his musings when he heard soft elven footsteps approaching and turned to see Ecthelion striding down the walkway toward him. He almost forgot to breathe at the vision of beauty before him. The moon lit his captain from behind, causing his hair to shimmer in a halo effect. The dark clothes he wore blended into the night and he seemed almost to float over the cobblestones. And when he approached closer, that melodious voice, speaking only a single word. “Come.”

He did not have the presence of mind to ask where they were going, but his eyes widened as he realized they were leaving the conscripts’ quarters behind, climbing even above the officer’s rooms, up to the furthest reaches of the gleaming white spires. Only a half dozen elves lived this high up in the city. The king and his daughter obviously lived at the very top....but slightly below them were the lords and nobles....including the Lord of the House of the Fountain....his heart stopped as he realized Ecthelion was leading him not to a communal area of some type, but to his private quarters.

They continued through door after door, up staircases, down corridors, until Glorfindel was quite lost. Finally they reached a massive oaken door, which seemed so like any of the others they had passed through. But for this one, Ecthelion produced an ornate, jeweled key. Looking briefly over at his companion, he unlocked the door and motioned Glorfindel inside.

It took a few moments for Glorfindel’s eyes to adjust to the dim light. Far from being brightly lit, only a few scented candles burned here and there, though one drapery was pulled open, to let in the sparkling silver light of the full moon. Once they were inside, Ecthelion released his hand and moved to the table, where a bottle of wine was cooling in a bucket of ice. He poured two glasses and returned, handing one to Glorfindel.

“To the continued health and safety of Gondolin, her king and his daughter, and every one of her residents.” He clinked his glass with Glorfindel’s and they both drank to the toast. He smiled as he watched Glorfindel’s eyes dart around the room, trying to take it all in without being too obvious.

After several minutes, Ecthelion moved to the sofa. Like the other furnishings in the room, it was elegant, though understated. The high back and deeply padded seat were covered in a muted green velvet, the arms two pieces of a knotted, twisted driftwood, carried from the faraway sea. When Glorfindel made no move to join him, he patted the cushion next to him. Hesitantly, Glorfindel moved closer, perching on the very edge of the sofa.

Ecthelion watched him for a minute before sliding closer. It was time. Time to show this beautiful, kind, courageous young elf how much he was loved and desired. “You look lovely in this,” he said softly, running a finger down Glorfindel’s arm, tracing the pattern of the stitching on the sleeve. Most who had seen him that night had probably not realized that the stitching was golden flowers, to pay tribute to Glorfindel’s house, but he knew the perceptive young elf had noticed. Little escaped his attention.

“I....thank you, Captain,” he stammered, in his embarrassment forgetting what Ecthelion had told him about using titles.

Ecthelion moved closer yet, until he could whisper into his companion’s ear. “Ecthelion....not captain.”

Glorfindel shivered at the warm breath on his ear, but far from moving away, leaned closer. “Ecthelion.”

“It makes me so happy you are here, Glorfindel. You have spent far too many Solstice evenings alone. No one should be alone on this night, particularly not one as beautiful as you,” he whispered into the young elf’s ear.

“You....you find me beautiful?” Glorfindel shivered again as Ecthelion moved closer and flicked his tongue out to trace along the line of his ear.

“I find you very beautiful, Glorfindel. You are brave, and kind, and thoughtful. You always have time for those less experienced than you. You are always willing to give of yourself for others. Who could not find that beautiful?”

“I....gods....” a soft moan escaped him as Ecthelion traced back down the line of his ear and softly took his earlobe into his mouth. Such pleasure....

“I want you, Glorfindel. I have wanted you for a long time. And I suspect you want me as well. I know you are untouched,” he murmured into Glorfindel’s ear. “If you would allow me, it would be my great pleasure to instruct you in the ways of love....” He hesitated for a moment, to give Glorfindel time to think it over. “Would you allow me, young one?”

For a long time, Glorfindel said nothing, not sure he had heard correctly. Ecthelion wanted him? Was he dreaming? He moaned softly as that decadent tongue traced another line around his ear, jumping slightly and gasping as his captain softly bit the pointy tip. He opened his mouth to speak, but could not seem to make his tongue form words. So instead, he nodded.

“Good, then come....the sofa is no place for this.” He stood and held out his hand, waiting for Glorfindel to take it. Once he did, he squeezed gently and pulled him into the bedroom.

Compared to the sitting room, the bedroom was fairly plain, only a few paintings on the walls, a thick fur rug on the floor. But it was the bed that drew Glorfindel’s attention. Massive carved timbers made up the head and footboards, the thick mattress was draped in silky coverings, a shimmering canopy was attached to the ceiling and draped over the bed, protecting the occupant from the biting insects that plagued the hidden city.

And it was toward that bed that Ecthelion was now directing him. “Come....” he said softly, giving Glorfindel’s hand another reassuring squeeze. Moving the canopy aside, he sat on the edge of the bed, Glorfindel beside him, letting the fabric drop again once they were inside.

Reaching for his companion again, Ecthelion traced the embroidery on Glorfindel’s tunic with a fingertip. “You have fine taste in clothes, Glorfindel. Who is your tailor?”

“It....it was a gift, Capt....Ecthelion....” he said softly, raising his head to look into Ecthelion’s eyes. “It seems I have a secret admirer. They have sent me many gifts over the last few months.”

“Ah....so that is why you have on occasion showed up sporting a new hair clip or scabbard for your sword?” He decided to play along, curious to see what Glorfindel thought of the gifts.

“Aye. It seems the giver is unsure I will return their feelings, hence their unwillingness to reveal their identity.”

“Ah yes....do you have any ideas about who it might be?”

“A few, though none of them seem to fit.”

“Mmmm. Well perhaps some day this mystery suitor will reveal themselves.” He ran his hand down the front of the tunic, fingering the golden embroidery. “I must say I like their tastes in clothing. This is most becoming on you.”

“Thank....thank you Ecthelion....” Glorfindel gasped, pressing into the touches. His body was nearly aching with need. It had been a while since he had time for release, and was unsure how he would hold back much longer.

After a moment, the wandering hand moved lower, finding the ties on Glorfindel’s leggings and slowly untying them. “Relax, mellon nin. I will not hurt you,” he whispered into Glorfindel’s ear.

Glorfindel nodded. “I....I know. I just....I ache so....”

Ecthelion slipped his hand inside the top of the loosened leggings and took Glorfindel’s shaft into his hand. “So you do....let us take care of that then, shall we?”

The younger elf gasped as his captain gripped his shaft firmly and began stroking him quickly. He barely had time to think before he was arching his hips and moaning, releasing into Ecthelion’s hand. Ecthelion reached for a corner of the sheet and gently wiped the moisture away. “There....now you will have the self control to let me do exactly what I want to your lovely body.”

Glorfindel looked up at him, confused and a little disappointed. “But, I....I climaxed....is this not over now?”

“Oh no, far from over. You are young and healthy, Glorfindel. I did not satisfy you, all I did was take the edge off your desire. You will climax again, I promise you. And the next one will be far more pleasurable.”

Glorfindel nodded, his eyes wide in need and desire, watching as Ecthelion stood and started slowly removing his black tunic, his eyes never leaving his partner’s. He tossed the fabric aside and leaned down, his lips coming within a hair’s-breadth of Glorfindel’s, though he did not touch. “Do you like what you see?” Glorfindel nodded. “Then touch me....let me feel your hands on me.”

Glorfindel nodded again and reached to lay his hands on Ecthelion’s shoulders, running them down the well muscled arms to his hands, then back up. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered.

“As are you, Glorfindel. Let me see you?” Glorfindel nodded, shivering at the gentle touches as his captain’s hands worked the buttons loose on the tunic and slipped it off his shoulders, then carefully removed his circlet, setting it aside. “Beautiful.....so beautiful,” Ecthelion murmured as he leaned forward to kiss again, this time letting his lips wander away from those full lips, down to the smooth column of neck.

For a moment, Glorfindel’s eyes widened in surprise before he gasped and tipped his head back at the soft kisses and bites on his neck, gripping the sheets in his hands. He suddenly understood why Ecthelion had brought him to such a quick climax at the very start of their lovemaking. If that delectable mouth felt that good everywhere, there was no chance he could have held back if he had not already had a release.

“Mmmm, you like that, don’t you....yes....do not be afraid to express how you feel....there is no one around to hear, only me....and I like to hear your pleasure....”

“Gods....that feels so good....I....I never knew.”

“Yes, there is so much to feel, Glorfindel....just relax, I will take care of you.” He gently pushed Glorfindel back until he was lying on the bed, laying next to him and continuing his perusal of his lover’s neck. After a while, he moved lower, licking down the center of his chest, and with a small smile, took one of the hard pebbled nipples into his mouth.

Glorfindel cried out and arched off the bed as his lover sucked and gently bit the sensitive nub, his hand working the other in a similar motion. Ecthelion grinned at the response and switched sides, back and forth, until both nubs were hard and throbbing.

Kneeling over his partner, he gently rubbed his erection against Glorfindel’s thigh, letting him feel his need. Glorfindel shuddered and arched again when their shafts were suddenly rubbing together through their clothes. “Please....I need you....no more waiting....”

“No, not yet, young one....we have all night.”

“I cannot wait all night, please. I have wanted you for so long. Please, now....”

Stopping his sensual assault on his partner for a moment, Ecthelion cupped his cheek, looking deeply into his eyes. “Glorfindel, this preparation is necessary. I know it is difficult to wait, but you must be relaxed and aroused, or it will hurt.” Glorfindel looked uncertain. “You would not start a training session without properly warming up your muscles, would you?” Glorfindel shook his head. “This is the same. Your body must be ready. I promise I will not leave you wanting, but you must let me do this. I know it is trying, but I promise the reward will be well worth it.” Glorfindel nodded again and closed his eyes, letting the wave of sensations wash over him.

Ecthelion smiled and continued his downward exploration of his partner’s beautiful body. He flicked his tongue into Glorfindel’s navel, grinning as he gasped and flinched away from the ticklish touch. He could smell and feel his partner’s arousal and could barely wait to taste and touch him.

Sliding lower again, he kissed the hard shaft through the fabric of Glorfindel’s leggings, grinning as he cried out and bucked up into his touch. Ecthelion unbuckled the short sword and set it aside, then reached for the top of the loosened garment, pulling it down to Glorfindel’s knees, then off when he lifted his legs. And then he looked....for the first time he really looked at his lover’s body.

A golden crown of hair framed a strong, though elegant face. Deep blue eyes, nearly black with desire, stared at him. A long, slim nose, high cheekbones, and delicately pointed ears gave the elf a look of beauty that few elves, ellon or elleth, could match. He had broad shoulders, tapering down to a slim waist, then back out into powerful thighs and calves. Glorfindel was a powerful elf, and looked it. There were few who could match him now for strength and endurance, and even fewer who would in the years to come.

But more than anything it was the smooth shaft nesting on a bed of dark gold curls that interested Ecthelion. Even that part of his anatomy was beautiful. Perfectly proportioned, slim and long, yet thick enough to bring pleasure to the many partners he was sure to have over the years. And it was to that shaft that Ecthelion now turned his attention, taking it into his hands and slowly stroking.

He looked up at Glorfindel, smiling slightly as he saw his partner’s head thrown back, his eyes squeezed tightly closed. He gasped with each touch, his hands gripping the sheets tightly as he fought to keep himself under control. So long he had wanted this, he struggled to make it last as long as he could. But it was not easy. Ecthelion was a skilled and gentle lover, and each touch, each caress, nearly drove him out of his mind with pleasure.

Gently holding Glorfindel’s hips down, he lowered his mouth, taking his first taste of his new lover. Glorfindel cried out and arched his back, seeking more from that warm, wet mouth. Ecthelion was happy to oblige, taking in as much as he could, stroking with his hand what he could not.

The younger elf’s cries were continual now, tossing his head side to side, moaning and gasping and begging with each breath. Finally, with a powerful tensing of his body, he groaned loudly and released his seed into his partner’s mouth. Ecthelion continued sucking on him until there was nothing more to be spilled, then gently cleaned him with his tongue and slid up the bed, to enfold his lover in a snug embrace.

Glorfindel held on tightly as his head spun, gasping for breath from the most intense climax he had ever experienced. Ecthelion murmured soft words of approval as he softly stroked the sweat damp hair and back. Finally Glorfindel looked up at him, love and contentment shining in his bright blue eyes.

“Thank you. That was wonderful.”

Ecthelion kissed his forehead. “I am pleased you approve.”

“I do. I never thought it could feel so good....but....” He felt Ecthelion’s unsatisfied need pressing into his thigh. “You have not yet found your release.”

“Mmmm no not yet....that is because we are not quite done yet. There is still more.”

Glorfindel’s eyes widened. “More? I....I do not think I can release again. I feel quite....quite....” He blushed deeply. “....satisfied.”

“Good. But there is one more aspect of lovemaking I would like to show you. If you wish to learn.”

Glorfindel nodded. “You wish to....to take me....”

“If you will have me. I would very much like to be your first, but if you do not feel you are ready for that step yet, then I will allow you to sate my need another way.”

Glorfindel nodded again, contemplating. Though his practical experience was lacking, he had been around the older trainees enough to know what Ecthelion was proposing. He knew it was likely to hurt, at least a little, though he trusted his captain to make it as pain free as possible.

“Do you want me?” Ecthelion asked softly after a short while, smiling when Glorfindel nodded. “Then you shall have me.” He pushed the canopy aside and reached for a bottle on the nightstand. “First you must prepare your partner.” He pulled the cork off the bottle. “Turn to your other side, facing away from me,” he whispered. Glorfindel nodded and did as he asked, shivering slightly at the thought of what they were about to do.

Ecthelion could not help but moan softly as those well formed buttocks were exposed to his view. Quickly he shed the rest of his clothes and tipped some oil onto his fingers. Sliding closer, he wrapped his other arm around Glorfindel’s shoulders, holding him close, gently sucking and nibbling on his ear.

He slipped a finger between Glorfindel’s cheeks, brushing the tip across his puckered opening, feeling him gasp and lift his leg, blatantly asking for more. Ecthelion was more than happy to oblige, gently pressing his well oiled finger inside, holding Glorfindel tightly against him when the younger elf jumped and moaned.

“Easy now, I have you....” he whispered, moving the finger slowly in and out. After a moment, he added a second, hearing another gasp and moan, then a third once he felt his lover was ready. Turning his hand, he felt for the pleasure gland inside his partner, brushing it gently with his fingertips.

Glorfindel nearly came off the bed as every nerve in his body was suddenly engulfed with overwhelming desire. Gods, what was THAT? The other trainees had never mentioned that!

Ecthelion groaned at the reaction from his partner, the throbbing of his shaft now continual. He knew he could not hold back much longer and was relieved when his fingers slid easily in and out of Glorfindel’s passage. He was ready.

He poured more oil onto his aching shaft and holding Glorfindel’s hip to steady himself, nudged his opening with the head of his arousal. His partner tensed for a moment, then relaxed, and he slid in bit by bit, slowly, but not stopping until he was fully sheathed. Glorfindel gasped and found himself clenching on his lover’s shaft. It hurt more than he had expected, but he was no stranger to pain. And he knew there would be pleasure.

To distract him from the pain, Ecthelion dropped one hand onto his softened shaft, gripping it and slowly stroking it, bringing it back to readiness. He began slowly moving, each shallow thrust being matched by a stroke to the hard shaft in his hand. Finally the pressure began to relax and he allowed himself a little more depth.

Glorfindel moaned and arched back into him, each thrust sending a wave of pleasure through his body. Finally Ecthelion smiled....it was time....he changed the angle of his strokes, again stroking against that pleasure spot with each motion.

The younger elf cried out in delight, moving his hips back into the shaft inside of him, then forward into that stroking hand. It did not take him much longer before he was there, spilling himself over the stroking hand.

Ecthelion groaned as Glorfindel’s warm passageway suddenly clamped tight on him in release, and he could not hold his back any longer either. Milking the last bits of seed from his lover, he cried out, spilling himself deeply inside his partner.

For many long moments, the only sounds were the soft gasps and moans as they rode the wave of their pleasure until finally collapsing together, utterly exhausted. Ecthelion pulled his lover tightly against him, leisurely stroking the soft skin of Glorfindel’s chest and stomach, feeling his heartbeat gradually slow.

Glorfindel sighed softly, laying his hand over Ecthelion’s and squeezing, feeling his captain squeeze back. For many moments nothing was said while they dozed in the afterglow of their lovemaking. Finally Glorfindel spoke.

“As lovely as the gifts have been, nothing could compare to this.”

Ecthelion smiled and kissed the side of his face. “Of course not....” He hesitated. “But I trust you enjoyed them nevertheless?”

“I did. Though I hardly need them now.”

“Oh? And why is this?”

He rolled over in Ecthelion’s arms, looking up into his face with a smile. “Because this shows me how much you care for me more than even the most thoughtful gift ever could have.”

Ecthelion’s eyes widened. “You knew?” Glorfindel nodded. “When did you realize?”

“When you took the tunic off. Several of the buttons are well hidden by the gold trim, yet you did not fumble with them at all. Clearly you knew where they were. And the only way you could have known is if you had seen the tunic before, to give your approval to it before having it sent to me.”

Ecthelion nodded, smiling. “I did not know how else to show you.” He paused. “I have loved you for a long time.”

“As I have loved you....” he hesitated. “It will not be easy.”

“No, it will not. But then nothing worthwhile ever is, is it?”

“Quite true.” He was unable to stifle a yawn, causing them both to laugh. “Now this time I truly do not think there is any more in me.”

Ecthelion smiled and pulled him closer. “Good....because there is not in me either. Good night, my love.”

“Good night....” Glorfindel hesitated for a moment. “....meleth nín.” Ecthelion smiled and closed his eyes, letting sleep overtake him. Glorfindel reached his own rest a few moments later.

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

Epilogue:

Glorfindel stretched as he strode toward his quarters, feeling sore and tired, but satisfied from a good day of training. The newest recruits had been assigned to him for the first few weeks, as even the youngest elf seemed comfortable with the affable golden elf. He didn’t mind, he enjoyed seeing their enthusiasm and drive to succeed, but....their aim could have been better. He chuckled softly as he looked down at the bruise on his lower arm, the result of a hard blow by a wooden practice sword. The owner of the sword had looked horrified at what he had done until Glorfindel reassured him that he had done the same thing to his teacher when he was first learning.

His teacher....Ecthelion....his body shivered slightly as he thought about his lover. It had been several weeks now since the night of solstice, and they had been together as often as they could, given the busy schedules they both had. Each time it seemed his lover showed him some new way to either give or receive pleasure, and though he had to steal back to his room each morning before dawn to avoid being caught, he could not remember ever being happier.

He opened the door to his quarters and stopped short, as there, in the center of his bed, was another gift. He grinned and quickly unfolded the fabric. It was a shimmering silver canopy, a match to Ecthelion’s, to protect him from the insects and cool drafts which often robbed him of his much needed rest. It was then that he noticed the note that had fluttered to the ground as he unfolded the fabric.

Setting the gift aside, he sat on the edge of the bed and read it. ‘I may have your heart now, my love....but I will never let you forget how I earned it, even when I cannot be there to hold you. I love you. Ecthelion’

With a smile, he set the note aside and went to the window, looking up at where he knew Ecthelion’s quarters were, though they could not be seen from there. “I love you too,” he said softly, before turning to head into his bath, wondering when the next gift would arrive and what it would be, as it seemed Ecthelion had no intention of stopping them.

He knew their relationship would not be easy....but then as someone wise once told him, nothing worthwhile ever was....

END

Glossary:

elleth/ellith: female elf/female elves

ellon: male elf

mellon nín: my friend

meleth nín: my lover