Title:
The Flow of Silver Water
Author: Tuxedo Elf
Pairing: Glorfindel/Ecthelion
Beta: Eni
Rating: R
Summary: Returned to life without warning or
reason, Ecthelion seeks to make the most of life while awaiting
his destiny.
Chapter
3
Pushing
open the door to his rooms, Glorfindel led Ecthelion inside.
His quarters here were not as luxurious or elaborate as those
he’d had in Gondolin, but they were attractive and comfortable
enough and still befit his status as a Lord and head of Imladris’
defences. He had grown used to them over the years, adding personal
touches to make them his own and yet, as he turned to look at
Ecthelion, this was the first time that they felt like home.
“It
is smaller than you are used to, I fear,” he said gently,
“but it is quite pleasant once you get used to it.”
“It
is lovely,” Ecthelion assured him, looking round the light,
airy rooms. “I do not need a whole house to be happy –
this is more than enough. To live together with you is more
wonderful by far.”
That
was true, Glorfindel realised. In Gondolin their status had
always meant they had to live apart, responsible as they were
for the running of their respective houses. While many nights
had been passed in each other’s arms, the dawn light had
always brought about a reluctant parting. Glorfindel could easily
count the number of times one or the other had been able to
stay late, for they had been few and far between.
“I
have waited long for such an opportunity,” Glorfindel
admitted, pulling Ecthelion a bit closer. “I hope you
will feel at home here.”
Ecthelion
chuckled, leaning into Glorfindel’s arms. “I already
do.”
****************
For
long hours they sat together on the wide sofa near the balcony,
arms wrapped around each other as Ecthelion gently urged Glorfindel
into describing his life since his return. It was not a story
Glorfindel wished to tell, for often it had felt like half a
life, with all that was dear to him dead and gone. Even Ecthelion’s
return could not entirely erase that – Gondolin and most
of his friends were still beyond his reach and that hurt would
remain. Yet the most important thing had been given back to
him and for that he was grateful beyond words.
At
length, he told Ecthelion of his own rebirth, though he left
out some of the details, not yet ready to speak of how lost
and alone he had felt. He spoke of his coming to Imladris and
how he had been charged with the protection of Eärendil’s
line. His tone lightened as he talked of the Elves here and
how they had welcomed him into their lives.
“It
made things much easier,” he admitted. “I badly
needed distracting from the memories – over time I learned
to manage them, but at the beginning it was near overwhelming.”
He
felt Ecthelion tighten his arms about him slightly and leaned
in closer.
“Elrond
helped a great deal and has become more a friend than the Lord
whom I serve. He also knows loss – he has lost as much
as we have, if not more. His strength helped me become strong
again too.”
Ecthelion
nodded, taking in all he had been told. So many changes –
he knew much time would be needed to allow him to become accustomed
to them.
“Tell
me then,” he asked. “What became of Eärendil?”
Disentangling
himself from his lover’s arms, Glorfindel rose. It was
night now and soon the one whose tale was next to be told would
make himself seen.
“Come;
sit on the balcony with me, under the stars. The tale I will
tell you now demands it.”
Though
he did not understand, Ecthelion saw no reason to decline, nor
did he want to, and he willingly followed Glorfindel outside,
picking up some wine and two glasses as he went.
Joining
Glorfindel again, he set the wine down on a low table and poured
them each a glass. Glorfindel took one and then, with his free
hand, pointed towards the star that shone brighter than all
the others above them.
“There
he is. There flies the child you once taught to play the flute
as he sat upon your knee.”
***********************
“Incredible…”
Though he meant it, Ecthelion’s voice came out more distant
than intended. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to rid
himself of the tension there.
Glorfindel’s
arm came to rest around his shoulder. “Ecthelion, are
you well?” he asked, his voice concerned.
Ecthelion’s
mind was reeling. He had already taken in much that day and
the story of Eärendil had been almost unbelievable, even
to him, who had seen many strange things in both life and death.
He let out a long breath, staring down into the half-full wine
glass and feeling incredibly weary.
“Aye,
simply tired,” Ecthelion replied, smiling slightly. “It
has been a long day – I feel if I have fought several
battles!”
“Forgive
me, I of all people should have realised how exhausting returning
to life is,” Glorfindel apologised. Gently, he led Ecthelion
back into his rooms. “We can talk more tomorrow. You will…
sleep beside me?”
Leaning
forward, Ecthelion kissed Glorfindel lightly. “Of course.”
Reassured,
Glorfindel took two pairs of sleeping pants from a drawer, handing
one pair to his lover. It felt odd to go to bed clothed when
Ecthelion was near, but he knew it was too soon to expect any
more from him. He was still adjusting and would need time. If
he was honest with himself, he did too. Mere hours had passed
since their reunion and he knew he had not yet fully accepted
the events of the day. As Ecthelion began to remove his tunic,
however, Glorfindel found himself blushing and had to turn his
back to avoid embarrassing himself as he also made ready for
bed.
This
did not go unnoticed by Ecthelion and guilt started to nag at
him, though he was of the same mind regarding the need to wait.
Still, he hoped that it would not be too long before they could
once again consummate their relationship.
Ecthelion
waited until Glorfindel turned back the sheets and slipped under
the covers before joining him. For now, these were still Glorfindel’s
rooms, though that, like their relationship, would soon change
as he adjusted to this life.
For
a long moment they stared at each other, feeling awkward. Previously,
their roles had been defined and comfortable, but now both were
unsure of where they stood, wanting what was familiar, yet at
the same time, knowing some things would have to change.
Suddenly,
Ecthelion laughed and opened his arms. Glorfindel all but flew
into them, relishing the feel of being held once again. Resting
his head on Ecthelion’s broad chest, he sighed in contentment.
“Not everything has to change,” he murmured.
“Not
at all,” Ecthelion agreed. “Change is what keeps
thing new and alive – though it is the things that do
not which provide stability and the reassurance that the more
things change, the more things remain as they always were.”
Chuckling,
Glorfindel toyed with a strand of Ecthelion’s dark hair.
“Still wise, I see.”
“I
would not say that,” came the reply. “It is surely
impossible to be wise when several thousand years are lost to
you.”
“Not
in history, no,” Glorfindel said. “But you are wise
in the ways of the mind and the heart. History has no bearing
on that.”
It
was Ecthelion’s turn to chuckle. “Now who is the
wise one? I have never heard you sound so serious!”
Blushing,
Glorfindel hid his face in Ecthelion’s chest. “Lord
Elrond has taught me much,” he mumbled. “As did
the Lady Celebrían before she left us.”
“It
suits you.” At that, Glorfindel looked up. Ecthelion brushed
the golden hair from his lover’s eyes before kissing him.
“I always knew you were more than just fair of face and
form.”
Glorfindel
looked horrified for a moment, before he caught the wicked glint
in Ecthelion’s eye. “How cruel!” he cried.
“Why, for that you must pay!” Twisting around, he
flashed Ecthelion a playful grin, before pinning him and tickling
him relentlessly.
It
was lucky indeed that Glorfindel’s quarters were secluded,
for Ecthelion’s squeals of laughter were most unbecoming
of the Elf that the historians held in such high esteem. He
squirmed under the mischievous fingers, half-heartedly attempting
to fend his lover off.
“Stop,
please!” he gasped at last, his face flushed from laughing.
“You win!”
Grinning
broadly, Glorfindel finally stopped his attack and lay back
in the strong arms. “Another thing that has not changed!”
he said. “You still have your weaknesses!”
“And
you are as wicked as you ever were!” Ecthelion’s
reply earned him a teasing nudge in the ribs, though Glorfindel
declined comment, simply shaking his head in amusement as they
both caught their breath and composed themselves.
At
length, Ecthelion’s stare returned to the window, and
the night sky.
“I
still cannot believe that star is the same child I used to know,”
he said quietly. “So different from the Eärendil
that often ran wild in the King’s halls.”
“It
does seem strange sometimes, even to me,” Glorfindel agreed.
“He was such a curious child. Do you remember when Turgon
bade us stay at the palace during the winter festival and Eärendil
came into our room?”
Ecthelion
groaned. “I only wish I could forget! It was a good thing
indeed he was so young – any older and telling him that
we had lost something between the sheets would not have worked!”
“Nor
would the excuse that it is easier to look for things without
clothing,” Glorfindel added. “As it was, Idril was
less than pleased when he took his clothes off to look for that…
what was it… wooden horse?”
Laughing,
Ecthelion nodded. “I will never forget her face! She knew
what Eärendil had nearly caught us doing the moment she
questioned him! I thought we would be exiled on the spot!”
“As
did I – it was a relief when all we got was a lecture
about locked doors – and coming from Idril, that was bad
enough!”
“Those
were good times.” Ecthelion’s gaze turned to the
golden-haired Elf in his arms. “I will always hold the
memories close to my heart.”
Placing
his hands over Ecthelion’s, Glorfindel squeezed them reassuringly.
“We will make new memories now, I promise,” he said.
“This age has much to offer and I look forward to showing
you all I can.”
Leaning
back, Ecthelion brought them both deeper into the bed. “I
hope so. Until I know the reason for my return, I will remain
uncertain. We cannot know what the Valar have planned and I
fear that this peace will not last. War may come upon us again.”
“Then
should we need to fight, we will do so side-by-side,”
Glorfindel vowed. “History has shown us that we have only
ever failed when we are apart. Together we are strong –
you know this.”
“I
do,” Ecthelion agreed. “Thank you, Glorfindel.”
He tried unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn. “Though perhaps
such thoughts are best kept for another day.”
“They
are. Do not push yourself; it will take some time until you
are back to full strength. Your body is still recovering and
you have already made one long journey.” Reaching out
for the soft blankets, he pulled the covers over them. “Sleep
well.”
“I
will,” Ecthelion said, smiling and giving in to another
yawn.
Chuckling,
Glorfindel blew out the candle, sending the room into darkness.
Before
the smoke had even cleared, the two Elves were walking the path
of dreams, hand in hand.
END
CHAPTER 3
