Perfect Matches by Cirdan

Chapter 4

            By the time Ecthelion reached his maturity, he had met every Vanyarin, Noldorin, and Telerin Elf in Aman save one.  Those who said that young Ecthelion knew everyone often thought privately that he only seemed to know everyone, but it was true that he had met every single Elf in Aman at least once.  As a young lordling in the noble House of the Fountain, there were few duties to restrict his comings and goings, and the years of the Trees were long.  Ecthelion had personally met everyone either briefly or within a small group setting at a party.  Despite, or perhaps because of, his youth, Ecthelion was greatly liked by everyone he met, which was everyone in Aman, and so, when a feast was to be held in celebration for Ecthelion's coming of age, the festivities were greater than even those seen for the Princes of the Noldor.

            High King Finwe himself invited—nay, insisted!—that Ecthelion's Feast be held in the Square of the King before the Mindon Eldalieva.  Even then, it was Feanor, the mighty son of Finwe, who quickly realized that even the King's Square would not be large enough to hold all those who intended to attend the feast.  The Eldest Prince of the Noldor personally worked with Ehtele to have messengers sent around so that they could get an accurate number of expected guests.  This list of expected guests came to total all the people of Tirion, many of the Vanyar, and a goodly number of folk of the Falmari.  Once the Lord of the Fountain learned this, he was totally at a loss for what to do.  Feanor had expected this, and he now offered his services to the Lord of the Fountain.  Thus everything, including the exorbitant bill, was attended to by the Eldest Prince, and it was sheer genius that he was able to accommodate everyone so that none were turned away from the festivities.

            Thus it was that Ecthelion, Lordling to the House of the Fountain, became 50 with much pomp and circumstance.

            When the week of celebrating was over, things slowly settled back to normal, and Glorfindel came to see the new adult.  “So, did you have a nice time at your party?”

            “Very much so, though I think I’m all danced out.”  Ecthelion smiled.  “It’s certainly nice to have so many people celebrating the fact that I’m legal.  I suppose there has to be benefits to dying.”

            “Dying?”  Glorfindel started.  “What are you talking about?”

            “Oh, well, there’s no point in hiding it from me, especially now that I’m old enough to know.  Besides, I figured it out some time ago,” Ecthelion said loftily.

            “Figured what out?”

            “That I’m going to die,” Ecthelion said.  “It’s okay.  I’m not sad about it.  How can I be when I get a begetting party that’s worthy of a prince?”

            “You’re not going to die,” Glorfindel said.  “We live in Aman.”

            “But Miriel died.”

            “What’s Miriel got to do with you?”

            “She’s the only other Elf with silver hair.”  Ecthelion spread his arms wide.  “I’ve met everyone in Aman except her, and I seem to be the only other silver-haired Elf in these lands.  It must mean that my fate and hers will be the same.  Besides, I think that’s why the Eldest Prince likes me.”  He wiggled his eyebrows up and down suggestively.

            “Silly little Elf!  You’re not going to die just because you have silver hair,” Glorfindel said sternly.  “There are other Elves with silver hair.  They dwell in Endor because they were searching for Elwe, Finwe’s friend and King of the Teleri, when Lord Ulmo transported the Falmari to our lands.”

            “And they don’t die?” Ecthelion asked.

            “No.”

            “So I got a big begetting party for no reason?” Ecthelion said.

            “Not for ‘no reason.’  We had such a grand begetting party for you because you’re the most beloved Elf in all of Tirion,” said Glorfindel.

            Ecthelion smiled then narrowed his eyes.  “By you too?  Do you love me also?”

            Glorfindel nodded.  “There can be no doubt of that.”

            Ecthelion, now relieved to know that he wouldn’t die, hugged Glorfindel and tucked his head under the older Elf’s chin.  “I love you too, Glorfindel.”

            Glorfindel wrapped his arms around Ecthelion and patted him on the back.  “I know it, squirt.”