Mighty Warrior by hennethgalad

Chapter 2

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Chapter Text

   It was a hot, still day, the drowsy bees flew slowly, and the birds sought shelter in the shade. The elves of Tirion were gathered to hear a concert in praise of Irmo, and to eat picnics in the warm Light. Glorfindel, full beyond even nibbling at treats, was idly looking around at the audience when his eyes were held by what seemed to him a flash as bright as lightning. But his eyes disputed with his spirit, and he could not tell if he had seen a vision of the future, or a phantasm of a dream, conjured by the music and the rich food in the heat.

   He blinked, he could not tell. The elf had tilted his head back, closed his eyes and was smiling faintly with satisfaction. Something in his attitude struck Glorfindel like a charging bull, he felt as though he had forgotten how to breathe, and he knew that all too soon the elf would move, and turn his head, and the vision be lost forever. But the elf was still, basking in the Light, his eyes closed, his smile broadening into one of contentment, almost of bliss. Glorfindel had a vision, or merely wished it so, of the elf naked, with that same expression, and of his hands, waiting to touch the warm flesh. The moment seemed endless, until at last the spell was broken and another elf spoke to the vision, and he turned his beautiful head and smiled at his companions. 

 

   Glorfindel tugged urgently on the sleeve of Erestor, who was debating arcane minutiae with some friends. ‘Erestor ! Who is that, it looks like his family he is with, they are wearing mostly brown, with garlands of pale roses.'

   'What, who ? Oh, oh yes, that will be Aistalar, the son of Brethil. Brethil is a secretary of Finwë, and his wife toils in the depths of the archives. Ha, you think that my work is obscure. The son, well, there are two, that will be the older brother over there, with his wife and children. Aistalar is nice enough, I suppose, but, well, a bit... well... dull. They are all a bit dull, in truth. Duller than me, even.'

   'That is not what you mean by dull, you mean that he is not brilliant like you. He is dull, like me.'

   'You are not dull ! Nor stupid. You have not tried to be a scholar at all ! But you know very well that you could, and I am sure that you will, eventually, and you will take your place among the wise, where you belong. But we need all kinds of elves doing all kinds of things, and you are such a mighty warrior that nobody minds if you never open another scroll in all your life.'

   'But what of Aistalar ? What can you tell... Oh no !' 

Glorfindel rose from his cushion; the family of Brethil was leaving, he turned to Erestor with alarm in his eyes "Where does he live Erestor ? Tell me swiftly !'

 

 

 

   The house was unremarkable, dull, perhaps... Glorfindel, having rushed home to find a suitable gift, was astonished at himself, but he could think of no other way than a direct approach. He looked down at the hamper in his arms; his parents had sent it from the family farm, it was filled with his favourites. He hoped that Brethil and his family shared a few of his tastes. He swallowed, and wiped his hands one palm at a time, then straightened his back and walked purposefully up the path to the doors.

   He was shown into a long shaded room where Brethil, his wife and Aistalar were resting on couches. They rose to greet him in surprise as great as his own. For a moment he could not speak, but his eyes met those of Aistalar, which were pale grey in the centre ringed with dark smoke. His eyes seemed to flash at Glorfindel, who felt the same shock as he had at the concert earlier. His fear fell from his shoulders, he smiled at Aistalar, with all the warmth and charm he could muster, and was pleased to see the flush of colour in the pale cheeks. His purpose became certainty, he knew he could win the fair Aistalar, and that winning him had become an urgent necessity. 

 

He turned to Brethil.

   'Forgive the intrusion sir, but I have come to present this hamper to you, with my compliments. It comes from my family farm.'

   But Brethil interrupted him breathlessly 'A hamper from Little Gold Tree ? For us ? May I ask why this sudden generosity to strangers ?' But his wife, who had watched more closely the exchange of smiles, laid a gentle hand on her husband's arm. 

   'My dear, this is not the behaviour of a gracious host. Glorfindel, you must be thirsty, perhaps a little grape juice ? Or mead ? Will you sit with us awhile, for after all, we are born strangers to our own parents.'

  Glorfindel could see that Brethil had grasped that something was afoot, but was clearly waiting for his wife to explain. Glorfindel smiled, this was not what he had come to expect from the courtiers of Finwë, but then there were many skills needed to administer the city, and Brethil might be one of those to whom numbers were toys.

 

  They sat, and Glorfindel sipped some grape juice and they spoke briefly of the concert, but he could feel their impatient curiosity, and see the blush deepening on the cheeks of Aistalar, who could not yet quite believe that the visit concerned him. His mother was opening the hamper and exclaiming over the contents, and turned to Brethil with a happy smile 'Let us picnic again my dear ! Let us invite Glorfindel to share this marvellous hamper with us, and he may tell us the secrets of the kitchen of Little Gold Tree.'

  Brethil looked at Glorfindel 'Would you like that ? You are very welcome, I am sure, but...'

  Glorfindel drew in his breath, looked quickly at Aistalar, and finally spoke, as clearly and firmly as he could. 'I have come to court Aistalar. I hope I may count on your blessing ?'

  All three of them gasped softly. Aistalar rose to his feet for a moment, then sat quickly down again. His mother was beaming, pleased with her guess, and delighted for her son. She turned to Brethil, who gaped for a moment, then drew himself up proudly 'Of course, he is a handsome boy, though I say so myself. Why, you are welcome here, Glorfindel, and you must take your chance with my boy. He is a quiet one, a bit shy, you know, so do not be discouraged if he doesn’t say much.'

  'Father ! Please. I can speak for myself.' It was the first time that Glorfindel had heard Aistalar speak, his voice was clear and pleasant, as perfect as his features. 'Perhaps Glorfindel would like me to show him the gardens before we eat, and you can finish your rest.'

  'Splendid !' said his mother, 'We shall have these delicacies set up by the time you return.'

 

  The gardens were large and filled with trees, hedges, statues and small ornamental summer houses. When they were out of sight of the house Glorfindel stopped and smiled at Aistalar 'Do not be afraid, I would do nothing to hurt you.'

 Aistalar frowned 'I am not afraid' he began, then yelped as the breath was thrown from his lungs. Glorfindel had hauled him down onto the grass and held him immobile. Aistalar struggled for a little, but there was no shifting the mighty warrior Glorfindel. He swallowed, then said as coolly as he could manage 'What do you think you are doing, Glorfindel ?' 

   But Glorfindel, in the grip of his fey vision, or his fey mood, had formed a desperate scheme, and he meant to succeed, risking all if need be, for the prize that he knew was within his grasp. 'I want you to submit.' He said. 'I want you to submit, not as a soldier submits to the captain, but as the horse to the master. I will reach past your will, and tame your body. And you will be mine, naked under my eye and my hand, open to my whim and my pleasure.' He smiled into the stunned eyes 'And I will make this life, this world, true for you, unmarred, I will shield you and comfort you and devote my whole spirit to bringing you to bliss, and holding you there until the world ends. You alone shall return to Cuiviénen ! You shall live the true Music.'

 

   And with remorseless care he stripped the clothes from the struggling Aistalar, and took his wrists in one hand, and gripped his legs together with his knees, and looked into the frightened angry eyes of his captive.

  'Have no fear, son of Brethil, I will allow no harm to come to you. I will turn aside from the ways of the warrior, and watch over you.'

  Aistalar frowned 'A mighty warrior might do a better job of protecting me. For instance, he might defend me from being attacked in my garden and held down and humiliated like this. Tamed ! Do you think me a beast on your farm ?'

  'Nay, Aistalar, I do not humiliate you, I venerate you. I will do nothing without your permission, I shall not even kiss you. But soon, when your heart slows and your breathing is steadier, I shall stroke your flesh, to soothe your body. For we are both animals, it is what distinguishes us from the Maiar. We cannot escape the flesh, as you cannot escape me.'

   'Of course I can, I need only call out !'

   But Glorfindel shook his head 'You would already have called. You will not now. No, you are mine, and you will find this soothing.'

His strong hand moved gently over the hot flesh. Aistalar struggled for a moment, then lay still. His breathing, which had begun to slow, came hoarsely in the silent garden.

 

   Glorfindel was in torment, the flesh was beneath his hand, he could feel, and see, the arousal of Aistalar, the heart pounding beneath the surprisingly broad chest. Aistalar had the build of a warrior, but Glorfindel had no intention of letting him near a battlefield. He stroked the smooth abdomen, fighting his own arm which struggled towards the pale thighs pressed close between his own. The heat made him dizzy, he looked down into the angry grey eyes and watched the black pools deepen as his hand moved over the bared buttocks. He let his finger rest for a moment in the warm crack, and heard the faintest gasp from Aistalar. He smiled to himself, but forced his hand to keep moving. The body must feel safe, to give the trust of submission; he knew he could not move towards the bliss he sought until Aistalar was easy in his hand.

 

  Aistalar spoke tersely 'Is this how you court them all ?'

  Glorfindel smiled 'I do not know what you have heard, but there have been only two, and I did not court either, both came to me. But you... I knew at once, I think perhaps it was a vision, it pierced my heart. But do not think that I make excuses for my actions. I know they are wrong, and that you are insulted. But still... Soon, very soon, you will long for me to take you, and you will forgive me for my rudeness.'

   'Rudeness ! You... You... You should not act in this way even if we had been courting for a year. I am outraged !'

  'I am only caressing you, I have given you my word that I shall do no more until you wish it.'

   'You take my consent as given ! What if I never wish for you ?' he said indignantly, but his voice had become hoarse, and his face was flushed. Glorfindel almost trembled with desire, he knew that Aistalar could feel the hardness pressing against him, their breathing mingled, they were vividly aware, each of the other, and intoxicated with desire. But the hand of Glorfindel moved steadily over the naked skin of Aistalar, and his voice spoke softly, in the soothing tones of an animal healer 'Be still, my beauty, lie at peace. All is well. I am here, I have you, nothing can harm you now.' And he murmured soft words into the heart of Aistalar, and the helpless son of Bethil felt his flesh answer the voice and hand of the mighty Glorfindel. And the body of Aistalar loosened under the hand of Glorfindel, and Glorfindel smiled, for he knew that victory was certain, though much patience would yet be needed. 

 

  At length, when they had lain long in silence, Glorfindel all the while running his hand over the warm flesh, they heard the voice of Brethil, summoning them to dine. Glorfindel sighed, but did not pause in his caress. Aistalar lifted his head and looked at Glorfindel in astonishment, and called 'We will come, father !'

  Glorfindel clenched his fingers into a fist 'I cannot bear it. I cannot bear to take my hand from your skin. I cannot endure to see you covered again. And then I shall have to bid you farewell, and leave !' He loosened his fingers and stroked the smooth flesh. Aistalar looked at him, an almost kindly expression on his fair face 'But you only met me today. It has been less than an hour.'

   Glorfindel smiled wistfully 'No, it was less than an instant. But come, I shall dress you. For soon you shall be uncovered for the last time, and remain so, in the perfection that Eru envisioned, unmarred, not hidden behind dead leaves like a corpse.'

  He helped Aistalar to his feet, and gently but firmly dressed him, and brushed the leaves and grass from his long dark hair. Aistalar looked at him as at a stranger, but Glorfindel smiled, and drew the son of Bethil into a comforting embrace, and felt the sinews of his beloved loosen with a sigh.

   'Trust me' said Glorfindel, but Aistalar turned away and walked quickly back to the house of his father.

 

 

  At the darkest hour, when all of Tirion kept the peace of Estë, Glorfindel, his blood in fever, stood beneath the window of Aistalar. He had found it out by asking the mother to show him the house. Aistalar, who had picked at his dinner in flushed silence, followed them in more silence. The mother had been enthusiastic and confidential until she had asked him when and where they had met. When he had calmly replied 'Here, today' she had hurried him down the stairs. But he knew that she had missed her prey. Aistalar would be his, it was merely a question of patience.

 

 He climbed the carved corner of the house, and swung out onto the balcony, then slid silently over the railing and in through the open door of the room of Aistalar. He lay asleep, on his back, his head turned away, one arm abandoned on his stomach. Glorfindel resisted the urge to rub his hands together, and slowly, gently, he lifted the arm of his beloved and began to ease the tunic over his head. Aistalar murmured a sleepy protest, but Glorfindel hushed him, and he did not resist as Glorfindel finally removed the last of his garments, and threw them into the corner. Then he sat on the rail at the foot of the bed and gloated over the body of Aistalar.

 

  Glorfindel watched over his love for hours, as Telperion brightened, filling the quiet room with soft silvery Light. Glorfindel felt too exalted to admit that he was behaving atrociously. He knew that he should have waited, should have taken Aistalar on long walks, and had long meals in rooms with long curtains... but he had known in an instant that it would take an age, that despite the perfection of his beauty, which Glorfindel felt that he alone had seen, Aistalar could never have been brought to understand why one so sought-after as Glorfindel should care for someone as ordinary as him.

    Glorfindel had seen in that moment of clarity all the rows and tears, all the uncertainty and distraction that he could not bear to endure. Erestor had been a model of thoughtful restraint, but Aistalar was a different kind of elf altogether. Erestor, looking only for brilliance of mind, had not seen the profund sensuality of the smile that Glorfindel had seen. Erestor would never think to interpret the expressions playing across those curling lips, as purple as though he had eaten blackberries and neglected to wipe his mouth. Glorfindel longed for the time when those lips would be his, longed to slide his finger between them, feel them part to take him into the warm darkness...

 

  Aistalar awoke murmering 'What is it...' then shrank together like a nervous crab, pulling his arms around his ankles. 'You !' he exclaimed in a soft hiss 'What are you doing here ?'

  'You have nothing to fear, I merely watch over you.'

  ' I do not need watching over ! I am in the house of my family.'

  Glorfindel smiled meaningfully. 

   'Well, but Glorfindel you know that you should not be here ! And why have you taken my clothes off again ?'

   Glorfindel laughed softly 'I told you, I cannot bear to see your beauty marred by clothing. It.. it offends me.'

  'You are offended ? Not I, who have been attacked twice today ?'

  'I am not attacking you, I am... I am befriending you.'

  This time Aistalar laughed, dryly. 'This is not the behaviour of a friend.'

 

   But Glorfindel was watching his prey, aware that Aistalar had not left the room, aware that he had not even moved to find clothes. Glorfindel felt a wave of desire sweep through him and carefully measured his breath; it would not do to startle the naked elf, he must feel both overpowered and safe. Glorfindel did not even know if it could be done to an elf, though he had once seen a wild young colt talked into accepting a rider.

 It was far beyond the hunt, the taming of the prey. 

 

Aistalar looked up at him as though for guidance, and Glorfindel took pity on him, he was far outside his experience, confronting a wild-eyed stranger who had sprung from nowhere, babbling about animals.

   'Dear Aistalar, will you accept the comfort of my arms ? I shall not kiss you, nor do aught that you do not wish. I swear this.'

  Aistalar shrank back for a moment, then his head sagged, and he looked up at Glorfindel from under his long dark eyelashes 'Very well. I must have caught your fey mood, for I do trust you. You have done nothing but... well...' he looked down, leaning his chin on his knees. Glorfindel felt a tender warmth, and slid down onto the bed  and wrapped his arms around his beloved. 

 

  Gradually he laid him down, and raised his arms above his head and held him by the wrists; gripping his legs between his knees, he used his free hand to stroke the bare skin that lay helpless before him. The strength of his own desire threatened to twist his sinews into knots. He knew that he could not speak, but Aistalar lay in silence, breathing audibly, his body hot, and beginning to tremble. Finally, after a long silence, in which the motion of his hand over the smooth flesh seemed the only sound apart from their breathing, Glorfindel spoke hoarsely 'Go to sleep. You must trust me. You must sleep.'

  Aistalar turned his head and looked at Glorfindel in astonishment 'Sleep ? Are you witless ? How can I sleep like this ?'

  Glorfindel spoke thickly. 'You must. Forget me, I will not harm you. Sleep, Aistalar, close your eyes and sleep.'

   Shock, perhaps, had tired Aistalar beyond the point of caring. After a moment or two his eyes stayed closed, and he softened into the arms of Glorfindel, who felt tears start in his eyes, and clenched his teeth angrily. This was the time for celebration, not weeping. The beloved lay naked in his arms, sleeping peacefully. He was filled with pride, greater than anything he had accomplished in all his life. His eyes burned but he stared out into the silvery night, and realised the truth of what he had done, and within him, bubbling forth like a new spring, a score of plans for their future sprang into his thought, keeping him staring out at the shimmering sky, even as his hands ran lightly over the smooth skin beneath him. 

    But time was passing, it had brightened considerably, and he must leave or the scandal would ruin his careful planning. He sighed regretfully and stroked Aistalar again, who slid closer, and murmured contentedly. Glorfindel found that he himself had made a soft mewling croak, the animal sounds of lovers in the night. He gritted his teeth and tore himself away, knowing that all morning he would feel himself to be still there, in bed with his beloved, at peace.

   

 The streets were quiet. Glorfindel stretched, scratching his head, feeling his hair shaken loose, and cracking the strain from his joints. He considered running the rest of the way, but he knew that he needed to think, and to compose his mind, and prepare for the lunch he had arranged with Aistalar and his parents. 

   There was a gardener weeding the flowers beside the road. It was the first time he had seen one at work, after two years in Tirion. He realised that, like Erestor, he had kept very sensible hours, and done nothing wild at all. With a start he realised that it was this very quietness which had earned him such a welcome in the house of Brethil. He noticed that the gardener was staring at him, and that he was staring at her.

   'Forgive me !' he exclaimed, 'But I have never seen a gardener here, in the two years I have lived here. I am called Glorfindel, if it please you.'

   'I know who you are, Glorfindel, for I saw you beat Roka at the races. Indeed, I won a bet on you ! But tell me, Glorfindel, if it please you, what has brought about this change in your sober habits. For you do not seem drunk to me. Is it love that has you sleepless ?'

   Glorfindel gaped at her 'Do you read my thought ?'

   She laughed 'Alas, no, though by your colour those thoughts would be very interesting to read ! The beloved is keen, yes ?'

   Glorfindel felt his cheeks burn 'I think... I think he will be mine soon. Very soon.'

   She paused and straightened her back, looking down for a moment at the trowel in her hand 'I meet many of the lovesick, on these nights, and often they talk to me, for a stranger is a friend in the desolate night. You seem... You seem like one who will be wed the next day, with determination and ardour eating your heart. Go home, Glorfindel, go home to your bed and dream of him, and the day of bliss will find you rested and ready !'

   Glorfindel smiled at her, a smile which warmed her heart all day, and suddenly darted away. She laughed and returned to her weeding, certain that whatever he did next, talk of it would be all over the city by nightfall.

   

 

 

  They had lunch at The Fountain, the finest in the city. Glorfindel sought to be as charming as he could, and was pleased to find that Brethil worked with some of Erestor's friends, and was easily nudged into talking of them. Glorfindel prompted him with questions, but only half listened to his replies, keeping always his eye on Aistalar. The son of Brethil was pale, his cheeks burning, his eyes lowered, picking at his food again. Glorfindel smiled warmly at the lowered eyes, then leaned across the table and said softly 'Eat.'

  Aistalar started, then his eyes focused on Glorfindel, who smiled at him and said 'Eat.' and nodded at the plate. Mechanically, still staring at nothing, Aistalar ate blindly. His mother smiled at Glorfindel 'He's always been shy. I hope you can bring him out of his shell a little.'

   And Glorfindel had choked back a shout of laughter and nodded his agreement. As they ate he felt the tide moving with him, and a moment for decisive action was buzzing around him like a swarm of angry bees. But he breathed calmly, drank a little wine and then said to Brethil 'I think we shall take a house in the hills, a little out of town. There is one I have in mind, called Beech Ridge, do you know it ?'

 

   Brethil looked at his son in surprise, they had heard nothing from him, the whole courtship seemed over before it had begun, and Aistalar definitely looked the part of blushing bride. Brethil sighed briefly, but there, his older boy had given him twins already. And there was no denying it, the boy was as pretty as a painting, and had been bound to catch someone's eye sooner or later. And he was of age and more, it was time the boy lived a little, and left him alone with his lovely wife, who had been putting him a long way behind the children for far too long.

 

 Aistalar looked up, their words drifting through the fog of his dream. For he could not convince himself that he was awake. The beautiful Glorfindel was hunting him like an animal, and he found himself longing to be caught again. His anger had turned into a raging desire that seemed to numb him to all else, even to the finest food in Tirion. His body tingled from the memory of Glorfindel's hands, the long brown fingers toying with a peach, stroking the skin as though absently, talking all the while to Brethil, but looking at Aistalar from the corners of his eyes, stroking the skin of the peach and making Aistalar want to scream, and throw over the table and seize Glorfindel and...

   Glorfindel was rising, talking and laughing to Brethil. Aistalar rose in a daze, and Glorfindel held out a hand to him 'Come.' He said, and Aistalar, not having the least notion where they were going, followed Glorfindel, forgetting to bid farewell to his own parents. Brethil turned to his wife and smiled 'They are so in love ! It seems to have flourished overnight, like a vigorous flower.'

  'Yes' she said slowly 'There is love there, but there is something else, something strange in how they are together. They scarcely looked at each other, yet it seemed as though they were the only people here, somehow. But perhaps it is because our baby may be flying the nest.'

   'And leaving us all alone. You will have no more excuses now my love.'

   'They were not... I truly have been anxious for my children, for our children, every day of their lives. But with Glorfindel himself to look after our baby, I think I can finally rest.'

   'Yes. I am sure you are right. All will be well.'

 

 

 

 They walked in silence through the West Gate, along the sparkling road and then up a path into the thick woods that covered the slopes of the hill. Glorfindel found a clearing filled with jewelled birds and brighter flowers, and stopped, standing before Aistalar, who said quietly 'You are going to undress me at once aren’t you ? Is that all you care about ? My skin ?'

   Glorfindel pulled him closer by his belt and unfastened it 'No, but your skin is... well, it’s all over you. It’s an important part of who you are. It’s a way of communicating with you that cannot be misunderstood.'

   'But what is it that you are saying ?'

   'Pay attention.' said Glorfindel, and lifted his tunic over his head. When Aistalar was naked, and blushing hotly, Glorfindel took his hands behind his back and stood in front of him, stroking his side, feeling the tremor, and the heat of his flesh. 'Things are moving faster than I had foreseen, my love. I am trembling at the touch of you, as you tremble under my hand. Would you have me kiss you ?'

 

   Aistalar gave a strangled whine, and leaned his head back, gasping in frustration 'I do not know ! You have taken my will from me ! I crave only the touch of your hand. I would... I had hoped for love, but if all we are is animals then let us be animals and... and do this thing. I cannot endure the torment of your burning hands on my flesh, I am... I am made of fire, you have set me aflame.'

   Glorfindel lowered him to the ground and ran his hand slowly over the hot flesh. Aistalar half snarled. Glorfindel pursed his lips, his eyes gleaming, and slid his hand between Aistalar's buttocks, resting his finger on the tightly closed hole. Aistalar moaned softly, and Glorfindel looked into the grey eyes, wide with helpless desire. 

   He had done too much too swiftly, Aistalar was opening like a flower in his hands, but he could not take him yet, he had planned... But no, it was impossible to move any faster, it could not be done. He steeled himself, and raised his hand to Aistalar's cheek. 'Listen.' he said carefully. Aistalar blinked, his eyes grew paler as they focused, and there was a flicker of light, and suddenly Glorfindel knew that what he had seen had not been a vision or a dream, but the Light itself, shining back at him from the eyes of his beloved.

  What clearer sign could he wish for ? 

 

   Aistalar was gazing at him, lips slightly parted. Glorfindel smiled and traced the curved outlines of those dark lips, then slid his finger gently between them, feeling the tongue of Aistalar tentatively lick his finger. 'We must take you home. You must go home tonight. Otherwise it will be too soon, and they, your parents, will be frightened. But I will come for you again tonight, you know that I will. And we shall go together to Ezellohar, and I shall lay you down beneath the branches of Laurelin and there I shall make you mine.'

   'Beneath Laurelin ?' Aistalar asked softly, and Glorfindel was surprsed at himself. It was such an emphatic declaration of love, he could think of nothing comparable. Very few had done it, and they were the sort who are passionate to excess, the sort who draw eyes. It was not how he had seen himself, yet there was nothing else to be done with this fey passion, that had turned them both aside from all their thoughts and habits, and brought them out into the woods to cling breathlessly together and dream of escape.

   'You have not asked me where I am taking you.'

   'Beech Ridge. You told father, Beech Ridge.'

   'I did not think you were listening.'

   'I wasn’t, not really. But I remembered the sounds, and so I know. But I do not know what it is, or where.'

   Glorfindel sighed happily and stroked the hair back from Aistalar's face 'It belonged to a Vanyar family, who moved to Valmar. People stay there sometimes, I was there with Erestor and a whole gaggle of chattering scholars. But they liked to meet in the cool indoors, and I liked to sit in the hot spring in the garden and watch the birds hurry about.' He smiled at Aistalar 'You will love it there. I promise you, I promise you not just happiness, but bliss. I must see that light in your eyes, I shall devote myself to finding it again, and I shall lick every patch of your skin every day until I do.'

  Aistalar sagged in his arms, his breathing troubled. Glorfindel held him close, then looked into the anxious eyes 'Trust me. If I take you now, your parents will know. We must go back there, one more time. Let them get used to the idea. All will be well.'

   'I do trust you. I just... I cannot think, I... the desire is filling my mind, you must... You must do what you...'

  'Hush...' said Glorfindel softly, stroking the long dark hair of the helpless, naked elf in his arms 'All will be well.'

 

 

  That night, as he paused at the edge of Aistalar's bed, Glorfindel realised that his love was already naked, with no blanket, lying waiting for him. Love choked him for a moment, and wrung his heart. But he knew that this was the moment , and he did not wish to spoil a single detail. He put his hand out and stroked the smooth skin, and his love turned into his hand and sighed awake with a smile.

  Glorfindel sat down and gathered the warm bundle of flesh into his arms, and stroked his hair for a moment, then took him by the shoulders. 'First, you must write a note for your parents, saying, "gone to Beech Ridge, will write soon." '

   'Yes. And second ?'

   'You must come with me to Ezellohar, just as you are.'

   Aistalar paused for the least amount of time, then said 'Yes.' But Glorfindel cursed his own impatience, and the desire that had filled the air between them like burning sparks and blinding smoke. His plans were thwarted. Glorfindel's experiment to bring the bliss of Cuiviénen to one elf at least seemed already to have failed. There was no time, for events and their own bodies were forcing his hand. 

   He gritted his teeth. Aistalar was submissive, docile even. He had been tamed, Glorfindel was certain, yet he had hesitated, as though considering refusing an instruction. Glorfindel could not see how he could ensure bliss without full control of all the things involved. Especially his love. 

   But it had all happened so swiftly... Perhaps he should wait, hold Aistalar in his arms once more, watching as he slept... But no. They were both crazed with desire. To wait would be folly. 

 

   The air was cool and silvery as Telperion waxed. They walked together down the tree-lined streets, Aistalar trying desperately not to feel self conscious, walking naked through Tirion. But Glorfindel had his hand on Aistalar's buttock, one finger burning the hole in his behind. Aistalar could not care what anyone thought, he could think of nothing but the hand, the finger, and the sheer stunning presence of the mighty warrior, Glorfindel. He paused, and looked into the deep blue eyes 'Why me ?'

he croaked, in almost a whisper. Glorfindel smiled 'I could do no other. It came upon me in an instant. I felt that it must be the same for you, that it would be if I could just get you to... to see me, as I saw you.'

   'You spoke of a flash of light... I have seen no such thing. But I find that I am beseiged by you, closely beseiged. And I look inside myself for the will to resist, and you are there, on your pedestal, shining in the Light. And my will does not say 'resist'. My will says 'Glorfindel.'

  'Pedestal ?' said Glorfindel. Aistalar laughed 'You really have been buried with Erestor. You are the talk of the town. That heroic race you won, all those heroic races you have won, and your affair with that actor, and then Erestor... Why, I was so self conscious in that restaurant because I could see, and hear, all those people saying "there’s that marvellous Glorfindel, but what is that scruffy scarecrow he's with ?" '

   Glorfindel blushed and looked away, and saw the gardener, further down the road, plugging away at the endless task of weeding. He called a greeting, and she rose to her feet, looking at them in bemusement. 

   'I take it that this is the beloved ?' she said, by way of greeting. Aistalar smiled, struggling in vain not to blush. To his horror, Glorfindel chose that moment, for the first time, to press his finger inside Aistalar, who squirmed slightly, and breathed in sharply. They both looked at him, Glorfindel moving his finger in and out as though nothing else were happening. But Aistalar stood, somehow, while Glorfindel told the gardener that they were on their way to Ezellohar, to become one beneath Laurelin. 

  'I wish that I had done that. But no, my wife is a Teleri, she would never have consented to that. May the Valar bless you both.'

 

   As they approached the central squares, there were people about, but they were troubled by nothing worse than long looks. Indeed they were scarcely troubled even by those, as they drew closer to the great moment. Glorfindel lifted Aistalar onto the back of Asfaloth, leapt up behind him and urged the horse on. They seemed to fly through Valinor in a dream, as the Light brightened around them; Laurelin waxed.