Title: By the Grace of the Valar
Author: Morgana
Author's Email: morganalebeau@yahoo.com
Web page: http://www.paranoid.nl/avalon
Pairings for this part; Elrond/Celebrían,
Erestor/Glorfindel, Lómion/Ereinion,
Melpomaen/Legolas.
Overall rating: NC-17
Summary: After Melpomaen recovers Legolas, Thranduil
and he travel to Imladris. Thranduil tries to court
Elluin and Legolas learns more of his mother. Lómion
learns to trust Ereinion and thanks to Estë, they take
a very important step forward in their relationship.  
Disclaimer: Not mine, Tolkien’s. 
Warning: AU of course! 
Author’s Note: Completely AU. Plus, I am taking huge
liberties with Erestor, Námo and his wife, Vairë. This
story has the timeline from Hell, so you are warned!
Additional note; Ereinion and Maeglin/Lómion were
never an intended pairing, but I developed a soft spot
for them! 
Beta reading, translations and research by Patricia
Pleasant, thanks! I couldn’t have written this story
without your help! 
All remaining mistakes are mine. 



By the Grace of the Valar
Part 11



Legolas had eventually calmed down and battled a
guilty conscience because of the way he had treated
his father. He had actually slapped Thranduil! His
first thought was going to Melpomaen, but when he
arrived at his beloved’s side, he found him soundly
asleep – sleeping a healing sleep. He just couldn’t
wake Melpomaen to listen to him – his beloved should
concentrate on healing. After pressing a loving kiss
onto Melpomaen’s no longer hot brow, he left and
headed for the highest branches of the talan. 

Letting his feet dangle down, he stared at his hands,
which lay idly in his lap. He needed to talk to
someone, but couldn’t go to his father. He was too
ashamed to do that. 

“Legolas? What are you doing here?” Avoralas easily
climbed up the talan and sat down beside Legolas. The
Chief Advisor sensed Legolas’ need to talk and knew
that the son would never seek out the father so soon
after losing his composure. “Why aren’t you sitting
with Melpomaen?”

Legolas released a deep sigh and looked into the
advisor’s wise, green eyes. Whilst Landiant had always
been his confidant, Avoralas his been his father’s
most trusted friend. The other Elf had always been
friendly toward him, although there had always been
some formal distance between them. That was part of
Avoralas’ character. “Did you know the truth?” There
was no doubt in his mind that Avoralas had already
heard what had happened moments ago. Nothing ever
happened in Mirkwood without Avoralas knowing about
it. 

“That Elluin is alive and lives in Imladris?”
Avoralas’ golden hair moved against his cheek, and he
pushed it back behind an ear. “I knew, aye.”

“And you never told me?” Now that he had calmed down a
bit, Legolas felt more reasonable – more open to
discussion. 

“It was always your father’s decision to tell you or
not, Legolas,” said Avoralas in a compassionate voice.
“Holding you in his arms healed a lot of Thranduil’s
hurts. You do not know what he was like after he had
just lost his father and many of his friends. He was
insane with grief and anger.” He raised a hand, seeing
Legolas was about to protest. “I am not saying that
suffering such losses made right what Thranduil did,
but it makes it understandable. He had lost them all –
and I am convinced that he was deathly afraid to love
your mother because he dreaded losing her too.”

Legolas cocked his head. “He should have told me that
she was still alive.”

Avoralas shrugged his shoulders once. “Probably,”
admitted the advisor. “But he did not. Thranduil tried
being the best father he could. He loves you… He would
die protecting you. He saw to it that you loved your
mother, even though you never met her. He did well, as
a father, didn’t he?”

Legolas didn’t want to admit that – he was still too
cross with his father. “He should have told me,
Avoralas! I could have traveled to Imladris and met
with her!” His eyes pleaded with the advisor. “He did
not only take my mother away from me, but he also took
a son away from her!”

Avoralas’ kind eyes searched Legolas’ features.
“Thranduil sent her letters – telling her how you were
doing. He sent her locks of your hair, the first
drawings you made. Thranduil even sketched you and
sent her the portrait. When you meet your mother, she
will know you. You are not a stranger to her.”

“You know much,” said Legolas, thoughtfully. “Do you
also know what will happen next?” 

Avoralas nodded. “I already talked to your father.
Once Melpomaen has recovered, your father, you and
your beloved will travel to Imladris. Your father will
ask your mother for forgiveness and if she will have
him, he will right his wrongs and bind with her. That
would make you his legitimate heir and solve many
problems.”

“And what if she does not want to bind with him?”
Legolas had never realized just how shrewd Avoralas
was!

“She will agree to the marriage. Elluin never stopped
loving your father, but Thranduil was not ready to
commit to her. He is ready now.” Avoralas brushed
Legolas’ hair in a fatherly way. “I overheard most of
your conversation and I know you lost your temper. I
was amazed that your father managed to control his.
Don’t you think you owe him an apology?”

“For slapping him?” Guilty-eyed, Legolas lowered his
gaze. “Probably.”

“Aye, I know you felt that blow was justified, but it
was not. You are still very young, but you need to
learn to control the urge to retaliate physically. It
will not do for the future King.”

Legolas’ features contorted. “I do not want to become
King.”

“In time, you might. Do not worry about that yet,
pen-neth1. But wouldn’t it be nice to have both your
parents at your side?”

Legolas nodded once. “That is true.”

“Then support your father when he heads for Imladris.
He will need you.” Avoralas carefully got to his feet
and began to descend the tree. “Go to him and talk
with him. You won’t know any peace until you do.”
Avoralas disappeared from view, leaving Legolas alone
with his brooding thoughts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ada2?” Legolas shuffled into his father’s rooms,
staring at the floor and wringing his hands. 

“Legolas!” Thranduil immediately rose from behind his
desk and fought the urge to walk toward his son and
bury him in a tight hug. 

“I am here to apologize,” said Legolas, cringing at
the memory of slapping his father. “I should not have
lashed out at you.”

Thranduil’s heart warmed, seeing his son’s regretful
expression. “I do not blame you for lashing out. I
might have done the same, had my father told me he had
lied to me.”

Legolas found the courage to look up, hearing his
father’s compassionate voice. “I should never have hit
you. I am sorry I did…”

Thranduil moved toward his son and wrapped his arms
around Legolas. “I forgive you. You had a very good
reason to lash out and I do not blame you.”

Legolas returned the hug and held his father tight. “I
am still angry with you, though.” But he was also
relieved that his father had forgiven him so easily
without throwing a tantrum of his own.

“I understand that you are still cross with me… I
would not expect otherwise.” Thranduil soothingly
stroked his son’s hair. “I will try to make amends.
Once your love has recovered, we will travel to
Imladris and I will take you to your mother.”

“You should have told me. You should have given me a
choice!” Legolas defiantly glared at his father. It
would take time for these wounds to heal.

“I was a coward,” admitted Thranduil, lowering his
gaze. “And maybe I was afraid that you would hate and
reject me and demand I take you to live with your
mother instead. You do not know how much you mean to
me. How much I love you – how much I need you. I could
not lose you. So I kept quiet.”

“Oh, Ada, you will always have my love!” Seeing his
father so vulnerable lessened Legolas’ anger. “You
will never be alone.” After moistening his lips, he
said, “And remember; when we are in Imladris, you
could try to win Elluin’s heart all over again. She
loved you once… Then, you would not only have a son,
but also a wife.”

Thranduil managed a weak smile. “Legolas, she no
longer wants me. She cannot want me after the way I
treated her. She is better off without me.”

“Why don’t you let her be the judge of that?”

“Legolas, you asked for my forgiveness a moment ago.
Now I must ask you for yours. Can you forgive me for
being a coward who kept the truth from you out of fear
of losing you?” Thranduil insecurely met Legolas’
eyes, hoping his son understood why he had acted like
that in the past.

Legolas looked into the depths of his father’s emerald
eyes and read the truth there. “I forgive you,” he
said, clearly noticing his father’s relieved sigh.
“But I expect you to travel to Imladris and to
introduce me to my mother.” A smile surfaced on his
face, saying, “And maybe you might even want to try
courting her.” Avoralas *had* said that Elluin had
loved Thranduil and might love him still. 

“I will try,” said Thranduil, half-heartedly. /Though
I doubt she still wants me./

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Melpomaen blinked, sleepily, and smiled, finding
Legolas at his side. The Woodland Elf had apparently
cleaned himself up, as he wore clean clothes and had
washed off the dirt of the road. For the first time
since he knew Legolas, the blond Elf wore his hair
loose, sans the warrior braids. “I like it… that way…”
His mouth and throat felt awfully dry and he
thankfully swallowed the water when Legolas helped him
sip. 

“How do you fare, meleth3? Better? You look better.”
Legolas exchanged a look with his father, standing at
the head end of Melpomaen’s bed. His beloved hadn’t
yet noticed Thranduil’s presence. 

“Aye, I… think so…” Melpomaen shifted on the bed,
trying to sit upright, which he succeeded in with a
little help from his lover. His shoulder still
throbbed, but he felt stronger, compared to the last
time he had been awake. “How bad… is it?”

“You should make a complete recovery within the next
few days. With each morn, you will feel a little bit
stronger.” Legolas frowned, seeing his father silently
leave the room. Didn’t his father want to talk to
Melpomaen? He would ask him later.

Melpomaen looked deeply into Legolas’ eyes and raised
a shaky hand to caress the face. “Your…father?” He
worried about Thranduil’s reaction to finding him in
his son’s company.

“Everything will be alright.” Legolas wrapped an arm
around the still weak advisor and smiled, feeling
Melpomaen rest against him. “I talked to him. He threw
a tantrum at first… And I must warn you. That is a
family habit. I have a temper too.”

“Not… with me,” whispered Melpomaen, smiling happily
at having Legolas close. 

Legolas chuckled. “Maybe,” he admitted. “But do not
worry about my father. He will accept you as my
beloved. He won’t reject you or work against us.”

“That is… good to hear.” Melpomaen flinched, as the
pain traveling through his shoulder reminded him that
he still wasn’t healed yet. “I should… lie down…
again.”

Legolas lowered his beloved back onto the bed and then
carefully stretched out beside him. “Comfortable?” His
actions were colored with caution, as he didn’t want
to jostle Melpomaen’s shoulder accidentally. 

“Very.” Melpomaen smiled, blissfully, and then drifted
off into sleep again. This time however, his eyes
remained open. A healing sleep was no longer necessary
as his body was recovering quickly. 

Legolas’ fingertips caressed Melpomaen’s face. “I love
you,” he whispered. “And I thank Erestor for
suggesting that you to travel along. Your presence
here has already wrought many changes – and there are
still more to come once we return to Imladris.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thranduil returned an hour later to check on
Melpomaen. The dark-haired Elf was still asleep, but
his son wasn’t. The moment he saw the puzzled
expression in Legolas’ eyes, he knew he would be
questioned. “What do you wish to know?”

“You could have introduced yourself to him earlier,
but you didn’t. Why is that? Did you change your mind
and don’t you approve of my choice after all?”

Thranduil shook his head. “Nay, that is not it. I
merely did not want to upset him whilst he is still
recovering. From what you told me, I gathered that he
thinks I will not approve of his presence here. I
would like to wait until he is more healed before I
introduced myself to him.”

“That is very thoughtful of you, Ada.” 

“I will leave the two of you alone now. Avoralas
wishes to meet with me so we can discuss our upcoming
journey to Imladris.” 

Legolas heard the uneasy undertone in his father’s
voice and realized Thranduil wasn’t looking forward to
traveling to Imladris. “Would you prefer not to go?
Are you only going because Avoralas and I are making
you?”

Thranduil shrugged his shoulders once. “There are
several reasons why I would prefer not to make this
journey. One of them is your mother and her possible
rejection of me. The other is Elrond.”

Legolas raised an eyebrow. “I met with Elrond. He was
very friendly when we talked.”

“Probably because he did not know your identity.”

“Nay, I do not think that was the case… He worked out
who I was fairly quickly; at least, Melpomaen told me
so. Elrond knows I am your son and he treated me
kindly.”

“Maybe he saw his chance and befriended you for that
reason? He always had a hidden agenda, that one.”

“Ada,” whispered Legolas, as not to wake Melpomaen. “I
know the loss is still fresh and that you miss your
father and our kin, but maybe you should try to see
Elrond for who he is? And not for who you *think* he
is?”

“My son is much wiser than I am,” said Thranduil,
giving Legolas a sorrowful smile. “I will try.”

Legolas nodded once; that was all he could ask for at
this point.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Why am I always injured around you?” Melpomaen sat
upright in bed and was digging into the stew Legolas
had brought him. He had been in Mirkwood for four days
now and his shoulder was mostly healed. It was beyond
him why the healers wouldn’t allow him out of his bed
yet. 

Legolas gave his beloved a fond smile. “Aye, first you
fall off a horse and then you offer yourself as a
midnight snack to some hungry wolves. I wonder what
will happen next.”

Melpomaen groaned. “Must you tease me?”

“You blush delightfully,” said Legolas, continuing his
teasing. 

“When do you think will they allow me to leave my
bed?” Melpomaen pushed away the now empty bowl and
finished the wine, mixed with water to make it less
potent.

“My father will be the judge of that,” replied
Legolas. He felt the time had come for his father to
face Melpomaen. He had allowed Thranduil to use
Melpomaen’s health as an excuse, but no longer.

“Your father?” Melpomaen gave Legolas a startled look.


“Who do you think has been looking after you?” Legolas
sat down on the side of Melpomaen’s bed, seeing his
lover’s growing distress. “He checks on you on an
hourly basis.”

Melpomaen frowned. “But…”

“He visits when you are resting – asleep.”

“That explains why I did not know he was looking after
me. But, why? I thought he would lecture me on making
you fall in love with me and send me back to
Imladris?”

Legolas’ thumb trailed along Melpomaen’s quivering
bottom lip. “If anyone made someone fall in love, then
it would be me making you fall for me.” He thought
back to that day, when they had sat on that
windowsill, reading the same book and feeling at ease
in the embrace. “I told you so before – my father
approves.”

Melpomaen looked skeptical. “How can that be?”

Thranduil coughed, diplomatically announcing his
arrival. Like Legolas, he had realized he couldn’t
postpone this encounter much longer. “My son loves
you. How can I possible forbid that?”

Melpomaen swallowed hard and grabbed Legolas’ hand for
support. “Sire…” He tried to bow, but his body was
stiff from resting all these days. 

“Do not trouble yourself,” said Thranduil, dismissing
Melpomaen’s attempt at bowing for him. He moved in
front of Melpomaen, and whilst standing at the foot
end, he studied the dark-haired advisor. The eyes were
large and still possessed some innocence. He literally
tasted the love Melpomaen felt for Legolas, but he
also noticed the nervous twitch near the corner of the
advisor’s mouth. /He is nervous. Does he fear me?/ 

“Legolas told me about you and…” Melpomaen quickly
stopped talking, realizing he had been about to refer
to the King’s legendary temper and he had better not
do that.

“He probably also told you that I am all bark… but I
do not bite, Melpomaen. So, you belong to the Noldor?”

“Aye, sire, I do.” Pride appeared in the hazel eyes. 

Amused, Thranduil raised an eyebrow. “Well, you will
be counted among the Sindar from this moment on. No
son of mine belongs to the Noldor.”

Melpomaen’s eyes had widened drastically, only hearing
insult instead of Thranduil’s teasing tone. “Sire, I
must protest! I…”

“Meleth, he is merely teasing you. It is his way of
welcoming you into our family,” said Legolas, quickly
intervening. 

Melpomaen’s jaw almost hit the floor. “Teasing?”

“Aye, I am capable of teasing,” said Thranduil,
amused. 

Only then did Melpomaen recall what Thranduil had
said; ‘no son of mine’. “You accept me as Legolas’
mate?”

“Aye, I do.” Thranduil gave them a smile. Wasn’t it
ironic that his son had fallen for a Noldo as well?
But at least Legolas had done everything right – he
had accepted that love, unlike him. “I must leave you
now, but we will talk later. Legolas, now that
Melpomaen is capable of traveling, I want to leave in
two days.” After uttering those words, Thranduil
turned on his heel. The sooner they left, the soon he
could return home and lick his wounds.

Melpomaen’s head spun. “Leave? Traveling? Legolas!”

“We are returning to Imladris, meleth.” 

“Why?”

“That is a long story,” said Legolas, stretching his
legs and fondly looking at his beloved. “Listen
carefully then and I will tell you everything I know.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Melpomaen had a hard time believing what he had just
heard. “Elluin is your mother?”

Legolas instantly grew tense. “You know her?”

“Aye, she works with the healers.” Melpomaen frowned.
“After Elrond returned to Imladris some of the
warriors decided they had seen enough bloodshed and
worked with the healers or married and started a
family. Elluin works with the healers because she is
in charge of that part of Elrond’s library that deals
with books on healing.”

“She is a librarian?” That was unexpected!

Melpomaen smiled, kindly. “I know your mother, aye.
When I was still a scribe in the library she would
help me catalog huge volumes of books. She is a very
kind soul.” Melpomaen’s smile brightened, seeing the
pleased expression in Legolas’ eyes. 

“Would you tell me more about her? What does she look
like?”

Melpomaen chuckled. “Her hair is darker than mine and
so are her eyes. She is tall and carries herself in a
regal way. She is friendly and kind, but she never
forgot how to wield a sword. I do believe she bested
Lord Glorfindel once.”

Legolas’ fingers found Melpomaen’s hand and twined
around the limb. “I want to meet her!”

“You will,” said Melpomaen. “We will leave day after
tomorrow, remember?”

“Aye, but…” A worried expression appeared on Legolas’
face. “Are you certain you are strong enough to make
the journey?”

“Your father released me from the healing rooms
yesterday, didn’t he? Do you think he would have done
that if he did not consider me fully healed?” He was
sharing Legolas’ rooms for now. He hadn’t thought he
would like living high up in the talan, but he did. It
was quite different from living in the Last Homely
House. He felt freer and there was more light and sun,
being reflected by the emerald green leaves of the
ancient tree. “And you will be traveling with me – so
you can keep an eye on me.”

“I wish we had time to bind – properly.” They still
had tonight, but Legolas refused to rush this. He
didn’t want either of them to be sore when they had to
ride the next day. Also he refused to be rushed into
this. Legolas wanted to take his time, making love to
Melpomaen for the first time. 

“We will consummate our love upon our arrival in
Imladris… I have a soft bed,” hinted Melpomaen,
playfully. He pulled Legolas close and kissed his
love. Aye, they would bind in Imladris and make this
love official.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thranduil shifted nervously on the back of his steed.
Ferlas sensed his rider’s unease and reacted
accordingly by nervously moving about. Thranduil
leaned in closer and whispered an apology into the
stallion’s ear. Upon hearing the soothing words, the
mighty steed calmed. 

Legolas mounted his mare and looked over his shoulder
to keep an eye on Melpomaen who had been given his own
mare, as Thranduil thought it awkward for them to
share one horse.

The mare sensed Melpomaen’s insecurity and Nimpeirien
snorted. “Meldis4, I depend on you, so please treat me
kindly. Do not throw me off.”

Overhearing Melpomaen’s remark, Thranduil chuckled.
Legolas cast a curious look into his direction and
Thranduil grinned. “We will make a warrior out of
him!”

Legolas groaned. “I like Melpomaen just the way he
is.”

“I do pray we won’t come upon any spiders,” remarked
Landiant, who would lead the King’s escort. 

Melpomaen straightened his shoulders. “I know how to
defend myself.” He just needed to train more and ride
more often!

“I am certain you do,” placated Avoralas, who would
stay behind in Mirkwood to rule in Thranduil’s place.
“Landiant, keep them safe!”

“I will!” Landiant raised a hand in goodbye and then
lead the party toward the road that would take them to
Imladris.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, Lómion left the cottage to sit in
the grass. Ereinion was still asleep, and Lómion was
determined not to stray too far, as he didn’t want to
worry his lover when Ereinion woke. He had startled
the former king too many times already.  

Sitting in the grass, he leaned in closer to watch a
butterfly, sitting on a bright red flower. Close to
his right hand, a little mouse was running toward her
home, dragging some corn with her. A pigeon cooed
above his head and a fish jumped from the water,
splashing loudly. 

Anor’s warm rays caressed his skin and his dark hair
shone like onyx. He crept toward the stream and stared
at his reflection. Awed, he wondered about the changes
that had taken place in his life. He *still* didn’t
understand how it was possible that everything had
changed for the better. He didn’t deserve this.

“But you do,” whispered Estë. She had left her island,
where she usually dwelt, to visit with Lómion, as the
time had come for the troubled Elf to continue
healing. The soft fabric of her gray dress moved
against Lómion’s skin and she stopped him, when he
made ready to jump to his feet. “Be at peace, my
child.”


Stunned, Lómion looked at the Vala, feeling grateful
that he had put leggings on before leaving the
cottage. But he was still bare-chested, which made him
feel vulnerable. Lowering his eyes, he waited for her
to speak again. Why had she come here?

Estë knelt beside Lómion, sensing his hurt, pain,
shame and guilt. Ereinion had started the healing
process, but it was still far from finished. “I mean
you well.”

“I know that… It isn’t you. It is me. I feel…”

“I know what you feel, my child.” Estë ran her elegant
fingers through his dark hair and that gesture made
Lómion look up in surprise. “Would you like to stop
feeling these negative emotions? Haven’t they
tormented you for much too long?”

“They are my punishment… I deserve them.”

“You stubborn child,” whispered Estë in a sorrowful
voice. “Do you not want to be able to love Ereinion
the way you want to love him?”

He slowly nodded his head. “But I will never be that
person. I flinch when he touches me. The mere thought
of intimacy makes me… scared.”

“Rest against me,” said Estë in a tone, which made it
very clear that this was not a request, but an order.
“And let me heal some of those wounds. It is time.”

Lómion didn’t want to do this. He was scared of the
unknown. What would happen? What would she do? He
obeyed and rested his upper body against her. She then
pulled him even closer until his head rested in her
lap. Her hands, soothing and warm, moved over his brow
in a loving manner and she sang softly. All these
sensations cocooned him and made him feel safe – so
safe. Safe enough for the Elfling to react to the
warmth and love surrounding him and the child inside
him stilled, listening to Estë’s lullaby. Lómion felt
how this young part of him fought letting go of the
pain he had suffered. The child in him desperately
tried to hold on to the memories, for they were
familiar. He knew to expect pain in those memories,
but he didn’t know what the future as Ereinion’s lover
would bring.

But then the child inside him began to give in,
soothed by Estë’s cunning and her gift for healing.
The tears he had shed for so long dried and a warm
smile replaced them. Pain dimmed from his eyes and
instead, love shone brightly. Love and understanding.
It was time to lay the pain to rest. It was time for
the child to be free again, instead of chained to this
heartbreak. 

Slowly, his eyes closed, his breathing slowed down and
he drifted off into a sleep that would heal his soul.
Estë remained at his side, stroked his silken hair and
smiled benignly at her charge. Lómion had finally let
go of his pain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh, not again!” Ereinion groaned, finding Lómion gone
once more. He had hoped that after showing Lómion that
he *did* want him, things would change between them
for the better. Apparently not. “I do hope you did not
take another bottle of wine with you!” After
weathering one emotional storm he didn’t feel strong
enough to withstand another. “Where did you go this
time?” 

Ereinion dressed casually in a shirt and leggings and
left the cottage in search of his elusive lover.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Over here,” called out Estë, seeing Ereinion search
frantically for Lómion.

Ereinion immediately headed in the direction of her
voice and was immensely relieved to come upon the Vala
and his lover. Apparently, she had kept him safe.
“Thank you, my Lady. I was afraid for him.” He knelt
at Lómion’s side and accepted him into his arms when
Estë moved the sleeping Elf toward him. “Did he suffer
another emotional breakdown?”

Estë shook her head. “Nay, quite the opposite
happened. He was finally able to deal with the worst
pain Eöl inflicted upon him. His soul is freer now,
lighter. You will notice the difference when he wakes
up.” She rose from the grass and straightened out her
dress. “I will return shortly.”

“What do I do when he wakes up?” Ereinion wondered if
he had handled Lómion correctly until now. Or had he
used the wrong approach? Had he made mistakes which
had only worsened his beloved’s pain?

“Put your mind at rest,” said Estë, twining a lock of
Ereinion’s hair around her finger. “Your instincts
guided you well. You did everything right. You are the
very reason Lómion is doing so well. Continue on,
Ereinion Gil-Galad. Carry on loving him.”

Her words brought a smile to Ereinion’s face. “Thank
you. I was beginning to doubt myself. Especially after
what happened yesterday.”

“Yesterday was a turning point for Lómion,” replied
Estë, letting go of Ereinion’s strand of hair.
“Because of yesterday, he managed to face his past
today.” Estë turned and began to walk away from them,
but then she halted and looked at them from over her
shoulder. “Lómion might surprise you in the next few
days. The Dark Elf no longer has a hold on his soul.
The child is now at peace and the adult will show more
and more. You will soon have a lover who will love you
as he should.” With those cryptic words, she continued
her walk and eventually vanished from view.

Ereinion stayed behind with a sleeping Lómion, kissing
the dark hair and murmuring a prayer of thanks to the
Valar.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Ereinion smiled, seeing Lómion lift his hand to wipe
the sleep from his eyes. There was something
vulnerable in that gesture – something trusting.
“Hello there.”

Lómion blinked; surprised to hear Ereinion’s voice. He
rubbed his eyes, blinked once more and sat upright,
looking into his beloved’s puzzled eyes. “Estë was
here.”

“Aye, she left after I arrived. How do you fare?”

Lómion smiled, ruefully, realizing he had worried
Ereinion by leaving the cottage again. “I did not plan
on getting drunk again.”

“I did not say that.”

“But you thought it.”

“I was worried you might resort to drinking wine
again, aye,” clarified Ereinion. He probed the dark
eyes, wondering what was different. There *was*
something different in those eyes!

Lómion brushed back his long hair and moved into a
kneeling position in front of Ereinion. He felt
different. A new kind of warmth warmed him from within
and the emotional pain he had been in for so long was
gone. The child had gone quiet – the boy was at rest. 

Ereinion felt entranced, looking into the large, calm
eyes. /Calm?/ He had never seen a calm expression in
them before – not one of such intensity. What had
happened during Estë’s visit? 

email addy for fb for the artist  faylark@hotmail.com



Feeling a tad shy, Lómion’s face grew flustered. “I
would kiss you, if you would permit it, meleth.” 

Surprised, Ereinion nodded. “But of course!” Lómion
had never looked at him like that before! Lómion
leaned in closer and their lips touched. It was a
sweet kiss, which spoke of trust and longing. Most
importantly, Ereinion didn’t taste any fear in it. 

Lómion grew encouraged, feeling Ereinion lean into the
kiss. The former king moaned, deep in his throat, and
the sound woke an ancient need in Lómion – one, which
he had never felt before. Lómion grew bolder and warm
hands slipped beneath Ereinion’s shirt, roaming his
back. 

Ereinion always maintained eye contact, determined to
stop their kissing should he see any discomfort in his
lover’s eyes. But there was none – only contentment. 

Lómion felt shy and nervous, but the fact that this
felt right, gave him the strength and courage to
continue. Feeling Ereinion sag against him, he lowered
his beloved onto his back. Should he straddle him or
not? Would that be moving too fast?

Ereinion solved Lómion’s dilemma by pulling him atop
of him. “Say the word and we will stop.” 

“I am not scared, if that is what you need to know. I
feel curious, but… I do not know how far I want to
take this,” explained Lómion. Now that he was
straddling Ereinion, he became aware of his lover’s
arousal. /And I am hard too./ He had become erect as
well, and was rubbing his lower body against
Ereinion’s groin, which felt divine. 

“Meleth…”  

“I am fine,” said Lómion, seeing the need for
confirmation in his lover’s dark eyes. “I do not know
what Estë did, but the child is at rest. The memories
are buried deep and do not torment me anymore. But… I
am nervous.”

“So am I. Oh, ind nîn5, we do not have to go all the
way!” 

“I know that,” replied Lómion, who leaned in closer to
kiss Ereinion once more. “I will stop, should I feel
uncomfortable.”

“In that case – do whatever you wish to me.” Ereinion
drank in his lover’s sight. Lómion’s inner light shone
brightly and radiated love. 

Lómion undid the lacing of Ereinion’s shirt, pushed
the fabric aside and bared most of his lover’s chest
to him. “I feel this need to touch you.”

“Then touch me.” Ereinion involuntarily held his
breath, as Lómion’s fingertips manipulated his
nipples. He bucked, unable to stop that reflex.
“Meleth…” Oh, he had wanted this for so long! Had
dreamt of this moment for so long! And now that it had
arrived, he couldn’t stop his body from reacting to
Lómion’s shy exploration. 

Ereinion’s reactions to his touch undid Lómion, who
had never thought he could evoke such emotions in the
former king. His lips left Ereinion’s and trailed
lower. Wondering what it would feel like, he closed
his lips over a hard nipple and suckled hard. Ereinion
groaned, bucked once more, and Lómion reacted by
gently scraping his teeth along the nipple.

“Oh, please…” Ereinion was close to orgasm. His body
was highly strung and cried for release! 

Lómion gave Ereinion one long look and then undid the
lacing of his lover’s leggings. He didn’t look at the
hard flesh that bobbed free, but maintained eye
contact. The horrid memories of past abuse might no
longer torment him, but he couldn’t help being wary.
The past had formed him. 

“Ind nîn, touch me, please…” Ereinion’s right hand
buried itself in his lover’s long hair, whilst the
other tried to slip inside Lómion’s leggings to return
the pleasure. 

Lómion decided that he trusted Ereinion
unconditionally and wrapped his fingers around the
shaft, which was already slippery with pre-ejaculate.
“I am sorry, melethen6, but I cannot return the
pleasure you gave me yesterday… Will my hand do?” The
thought of taking Ereinion into his mouth made him
uncomfortable. It was too early for that.

“It will do perfectly.” Ereinion closed his eyes for
one moment, experiencing pure bliss now that his
beloved was so intimately touching him. The strokes
were shy and even clumsy, but that didn’t matter. What
mattered was that Lómion had taken a very important
step by touching him in this way. 

Lómion gasped in surprise, growing aware of the warm
fingers curled around his own arousal. When he had
started this, it had been his intention to give
pleasure, but now it looked like Ereinion had
different ideas. “Oh, I love you so much!” Ereinion
had been his salvation in so many ways!

Lips met in an arduous kiss, tongues wrapped around
each other in a sensual dance and their hands sped up,
stroking in tune. Lómion involuntarily bit on
Ereinion’s bottom lip of the moment of his climax and
trembled in his lover’s arms as the experience left
him shaky. Never before had he felt anything as
intense as this!

Ereinion climaxed a moment later. Looking into his
lover’s dark eyes, he noticed the lust-dilated pupils
and felt him quiver above him. His strong arms quickly
buried Lómion in a reassuring embrace and he caught
him, when Lómion collapsed atop of him. For one
moment, they remained quiet, absorbing the pleasure
given and received, enjoying the new sense of intimacy
that now lingered between them.

Lómion rested his head against Ereinion’s shoulder and
snuggled up to his lover. “I did not think it would be
like that.”

“Like what?” Ereinion pressed a kiss onto the crown of
his beloved’s head.

“Like pure bliss. I never felt so complete – so
‘whole’ before.” Lómion lifted his head so he could
look into Ereinion’s eyes. “You cannot possibly know
how much I love you, meleth.” 

“And that says you – who thought he was incapable of
love.”

“Maeglin was. And Lómion, once Eöl got his hands on
him.” A thoughtful expression appeared in his eyes.
“But I am someone different today. I am not Maeglin,
and I am not Lómion, the child.”

“You are my heart,” said Ereinion. “You are my love.
Do you need a name?”

Lómion smiled, warmly. “Nay, I do not.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Elrond? Thranduil is about to arrive and…” Erestor
chuckled, finding one Elfling hugging Elrond’s leg,
whilst the other clung to his father’s neck. There was
no way Elrond could change his clothes before
Thranduil arrived. He almost pitied the half-Elf –
almost. 

“Ada, stay!” Elladan held on tight to his father’s
right leg and refused to let go. “You promised to play
with us!”

“I am sorry, but we will have to play later.” Elrond
sighed, resigning himself to the fact that his sons
were rather tenacious and would not let go. “Please,
pyn-neth7, l must welcome Thranduil and Legolas.”
Thranduil would see it as an insult, if he weren’t
there to formally welcome him to Imladris!

“Legolas?” Elrohir frowned and then released his hold
on his father’s neck, slipping into Elrond’s arms.
“The Elf who will let us hunt giant spiders?”

Elladan listened up as well. “Aye, we want to play
with Legolas!”

Erestor, who cunningly stayed out of the argument,
gave Elrond an amused smile. The twins had taken a
liking to Legolas, which would come in handy once
meeting Thranduil. 

“Are they causing trouble?” asked Celebrían upon
entering their private chambers. She burst out into
chuckles, seeing Elrond trying to free himself of the
tiny, but greedy hands. 

Another sigh left Elrond’s lips. He loved his sons
dearly, but at times they made life impossible. “Would
you help me, Melethril 8?”

Celebrían continued to chuckle, but took pity on her
husband and reached for Elrohir. “Come here, you.”
Elrohir pouted for a moment, but then moved into his
mother’s arms. “We want to play!” Elladan finally
released his father’s leg and ran over to his mother,
burying his fingers in the folds of her skirt. 

“We will play later,” promised Elrond, realizing he
lacked time to change into his formal robes. The shirt
and leggings he was wearing had been drooled upon by
his lovely offspring, but they would have to do. He
hoped that Thranduil wouldn’t be offended.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thranduil’s heart raced. He was nervous, now that he
was about to meet with Elrond and later on, Elluin.
During their journey Legolas and Melpomaen had tried
to soothe his troubled mind, but he found it hard to
believe that he would be warmly welcomed in Imladris. 

“Ada, stop driving yourself insane!” said Legolas, as
they guided their horses into the courtyard. Erestor
and Glorfindel already stood ready to welcome them and
he noticed the fond smile on the Chief Advisor’s face,
when those dark eyes sought out Melpomaen. Aye,
Erestor’s gamble had worked out perfectly. 

“Elrond and I parted on bad terms,” whispered
Thranduil. “He does not want me here.” Thranduil’s
eyes narrowed, seeing Elrond running toward Erestor
and Glorfindel. He had expected the half-Elf to show
off in order to impress him, but Elrond wasn’t wearing
formal robes or his circlet. His shirt looked wrinkled
and his leggings ill-fitting, like hands had pulled
the fabric in all kinds of directions. This was not
the way he had imagined Elrond would look like!

“Welcome to fair Imladris,” said Erestor, hearing that
Elrond was still trying to catch his breath. What had
the twins been up to this time? Had they managed to
flee their mother’s care at the last moment?
Thankfully, they were nowhere in sight now!

“Thank you for your words of welcome,” said Thranduil,
reluctantly. He watched Melpomaen dismount and embrace
Erestor, doubtlessly whispering words of gratitude.
Legolas slid off of his mare’s back and joined his
beloved. Now that those three Elves were chatting
busily, he was left alone with Glorfindel, and more
importantly Elrond. 

Landiant broke the awkward silence by dismounting and
introducing himself to Glorfindel. 

Glorfindel smiled at the fellow Captain and engaged
the Sinda in conversation, which left Thranduil with
no other option than to talk to Elrond.

Thranduil dismounted and walked toward Elrond. “It
seems like it has been millennia since we talked
last,” he said, trying to build a bridge through time
and space. “I never thought I would visit Imladris,
but here I am.”

Elrond managed a warm smile. “And you are most
welcome, Thranduil.”

“Legolas! We wanna play with Legolas! And hunt
spiders!” 

Elrond groaned; how had the twin menace escaped their
mother’s supervision this time?

The twins ran toward the gathering of Elves, but just
before reaching them, they halted in amazement. “Too
many blond Elves,” whispered Elladan, confused. Who
were they supposed to play with first?

“Yours?” Thranduil failed to hide his amusement – he
had always been fond of children. 

“I am afraid so. Elladan, Elrohir, please return to
your mother.” Elrond cringed; he simply couldn’t use
two Elflings going rampant whilst welcoming Thranduil
to Imladris! 

But the twins had different ideas and Elladan
approached Thranduil. “Do you want to play with us?”

Thranduil laughed, and the warm sound vibrated through
the courtyard. “It has been a while since I played
with Elflings.”

Legolas shot his father an amused look. “Oh, go play
with them. You know you want to.”

Encouraged, Elrohir advanced on the golden-haired Elf
as well. He raised his hand and managed to curl his
fingers around the adult’s. “We have colored pebbles…
or we could draw… I can never stay within the lines
though.”

Thranduil lifted Elrohir in his arms and studied the
Elfling, who closely resembled his twin and Elrond.
“Did you outrun your nana9?” A silver-haired she-Elf
came running toward them, her eyes simmering with
displeasure.

“Aiya, help us,” whispered Elrohir into the big Elf’s
ear, as he buried his fingers in Thranduil’s golden
mane. 

“Elladan! Elrohir!” Celebrían raised her finger in a
warning motion. “Come here!”

“Nay, the big Elf wants to play with us!” Elladan
quickly hid behind Thranduil.

“Sire, I…” Celebrían bowed, and then her bright eyes
sought out Thranduil’s. She had heard many stories
about his temper and doubted an Elf like Thranduil
would appreciate being hassled by the twins. 

“Oh, I will play with them… It will placate them and
tire them out. We can talk in the meantime.” Thranduil
allowed Elladan to pull him toward the main building. 

Elrond rolled his eyes. “Now what?”

Legolas took pity on the half-Elf and placed a hand on
Elrond’s shoulder. “Now you befriend my father. Or,
should I say, let your sons befriend my father?”

Elrond groaned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That is a lovely pebble and rather blue.” Thranduil
sat cross-legged on the floor, allowing the twins to
crawl all over him. 

Legolas smiled fondly at his father. “He played with
me all the time when I was little. He was the best
father I could have hoped for.”

Elrond nodded and saw Thranduil’s face grow flustered
at hearing his son’s words of praise. “This will give
us a chance to get to know each other. Our realms will
benefit from that.”

Thranduil nodded; at the same time, he rolled the blue
pebble toward Elladan, who promptly handed him a
yellow stone. The twins quickly grew tired, due to all
the excitement. Elladan eventually climbed onto his
mother’s lap and fell asleep there. Elrohir went to
his father, tugged at Elrond’s sleeve and was lifted
onto the half-Elf’s lap. Curling up, he tried to wrap
his too short arms around his father’s waist. A moment
later, all was quiet. 

“Thank the Valar,” whispered Elrond, feeling quite
tired himself. 

Erestor smiled and poured wine. After handing each Elf
a glass, he sat back and sipped his. Glorfindel
quickly moved closer, until their bodies were touching
and Erestor enjoyed the physical contact. Glorfindel
had been away on patrol these last few days and he had
missed his lover.

“We will discuss the relations between our realms
during the next few days,” said Thranduil, softly, so
he wouldn’t wake the twins. “But for now, I have a
request.”

Elrond raised an eyebrow – he was more than willing to
listen. 

“I wish to talk to your librarian, Elluin,” said
Thranduil, seeing Legolas sit up straighter at the
mention of his mother’s name. 

“I will arrange for a meeting,” replied Elrond. 

“Tonight?” requested Legolas, who was very eager to
finally meet with his mother.

“Tonight,” confirmed Elrond, a bit surprised at
hearing such urgency in Legolas’ voice. What bound the
Mirkwood Elves to Elluin? He would find out
eventually.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I am nervous,” whispered Legolas. Thranduil and he
had come to the library at Elrond’s request to meet
with Elluin. Although Melpomaen and Landiant had
offered to accompany them, father and son had
declined. This was something they had to do
themselves. 

The door opened and Thranduil quickly moved into the
shadows. He wanted for Legolas and Elluin to have some
private moments before making his presence known, as
he didn’t know how she would react to seeing him. 

“Legolas?” Elrond had told her who would await her and
her heart raced now that she was to talk to her grown
son for the first time in her life. She had taken
great care dressing herself and wore a brown dress
lined with gold, which brought out the dark of her
eyes. Her hair was braided and she pressed a hand
against her chest, trying to calm the pounding of her
heart – but to no avail.

Legolas’ mouth went dry, laying eyes upon his mother
for the first time. She was beautiful in his eyes –
beautiful and strong -- and he was reminded of the
fact that she had been a warrior once. Regally, she
moved toward him. A moment later, he was buried in a
possessive hug and he rested his head against her
shoulder. “Naneth10?” 

“Oh, Legolas, I have waited over fifty years to hold
you in my arms again!” Tears escaped her eyes and she
cried out of happiness for having her son close. “You
must be quite cross with me, for leaving you the way I
did.” Legolas surprised her by hugging her even
tighter, whilst she had expected him to push her away.
“What I did was inexcusable. I left my baby.”

Legolas swallowed, convulsively. He felt no need to
explore his reaction to her words and said, “Let us
not dwell upon the past. We are here now and we should
concentrate on the present.”

His words felt like absolution and more tears left her
eyes. “You make me so happy, Legolas.” She then moved
slightly away from him. “Let me look at you! Oh, you
do take after your father!” 

Thranduil carefully monitored her reaction to that
realization, but didn’t detect any hurt or anger in
her words. 

“You have his hair – but not his eyes.” She smiled,
warmly, and her fingers curled around her son’s. “Let
us sit.” She guided him to a couch, where she quickly
sat down, as her knees were threatening to give way
beneath her. “Your father kept me informed, Legolas. I
feel like I know you – though I always regretted not
being close.”

“I know why you left,” said Legolas, using a corner of
his sleeve to wipe away her tears and dry her skin.
“My father did not love you the way he should.”

Standing in the shadows, Thranduil cringed at hearing
the truth.

But Elluin shook her head. “I no longer blame him. I
might have, at first, after leaving you. But once the
madness of war had left me, I realized how many of my
kin had died and I began to understand. Had your
father and I met under different circumstances, things
would have developed in a better way. I felt sad
mostly for you, Legolas, being born out of wedlock.”

Her words gave Thranduil hope.

“My father always loved me and although a few Elves
made me feel less worthy because I am illegitimate it
never bothered me too much. I had my father’s love…
What else did I need?”

Elluin raised a hand and caressed her son’s face.
“Thranduil was a good father. I am happy that the two
of you became so close.”

“I just wish you could have been a part of that too.”
Legolas hugged her close and held her tight. Then, he
let go and he saw her surprised expression. He rose
from the couch and leaned in closer to press a kiss on
her brow. “We will talk later… There is someone else
who wants to visit with you.” 

Alarmed, Elluin looked about. ‘Thranduil?” She should
have known!

Legolas headed toward the doorway, gave his mother
another smile and then closed the door behind him. Now
it was up to his parents to reconcile – or not.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elluin rose from the couch, feeling more equipped to
deal with this situation whilst standing. “Thranduil,”
she said, as he left the shadows. Oh, he hadn’t
changed one bit in appearance. He was still the
handsome Elf she fallen in love with at the Battle of
the Last Alliance and her heart sped up with
excitement.

“Elluin,” said Thranduil, respectfully inclining his
head. “It has been too long.”

“Thank you for bringing Legolas to me. I watched him
during his first visit, a few weeks ago, but I did not
approach him. I did not want for him to face questions
he never knew existed.”

“That must have been hard on you.” He walked toward
her and halted when he stood in front of her. The
tears in her dark eyes hadn’t dried yet, and he felt
the urge to kiss them away – but he didn’t, as he had
lost the right to do so decades ago. 

“Aye, it was. But I always had Legolas’ best interest
in mind.” Elluin almost lost herself in his sea-green
eyes and steeled herself against his charms. “You told
him, then?”

“He found out, aye, and I told him. I should have told
him years ago, but I was a coward. I was afraid he
would prefer you above me and that I would lose him to
you.” He felt strangely shy, standing in front of her.
She was beautiful in his eyes, beautiful, strong and
wise. This was the she-Elf he had fallen in love with
and he loved her still. “I owe you an apology,” he
said, trying to find the right words. “I was bitter,
back then, and I could not love you the way I should.
Legolas changed that. A child’s unconditional love
taught me to love again. I know that it is too late
for us, but had we met now, instead of decades ago, I
would have done everything the proper way.”

His words touched her. “I never blamed you, Thranduil.
After the birth – upon my return here – I saw the pain
and grief many of my fellow warriors went through and
throughout the decades I learned to understand why you
acted the way you did. You did not only lose your
father, but also your King. And your people looked
toward you for leadership. You did not get the chance
to mourn like many of us did.” She was surprised to
see his eyes swimming. “Oh, Thranduil, I made mistakes
as well. This is not just your fault. We share the
blame. I left. I left you and our son. I could have
stayed instead. I could have tried harder, but I did
not.”

“Legolas said something very important, I think,”
whispered Thranduil, feeling mesmerized, as her
fingertips were moving over his face in an attempt to
prevent him from shedding tears. “We should let go of
the past and focus on the present. When he can do it,
we should at least try. Legolas suffered the most and
for him being able to leave this in the past, must
mean…” He didn’t get the chance to finish, as Elluin
rested a finger across his lips. 

“I never stopped loving you, Thranduil. And during
many a night I lay awake in my bed and hoped you would
come for me. That you would put my son into my arms
and bind with me.”

Hope blossomed in Thranduil’s heart. “It cannot be
this easy,” he whispered against her fingertip. 

“Maybe it is,” said Elluin, tracing the outline of his
bottom lip with her fingertip. “You just said that if
we had met under different circumstances you would not
have shied away from committing to me. Maybe we should
give ourselves another chance? We should also consider
Legolas’ needs. He would want his parents to try
again, don’t you think so?”

“I still love you,” whispered Thranduil, breathing
heavily, trying to make sense of this emotional
turmoil he was in. “I would court you anew, and if you
permit it, bind with you.”

Elluin smiled, kindly. “When I rose from my bed this
morn, I did not think it possible for you to enter my
life again in this way. But it has happened and I am
unwilling to allow you to leave. Whatever resentment I
harbored for you does not compare to the love I still
feel for you.”

Growing bold, Thranduil enfolded her in a hug. “There
is hope for us, then?”

Elluin gave him a smile filled with contentment.
“There always was.” Encouraged by the look of longing
he gave her, Elluin bridged the distance between them
and kissed him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Legolas soundlessly opened the door to Melpomaen’s
rooms, which he would share for the duration of his
stay. They were luxuriously furnished and stuffed with
books and scrolls. He hadn’t realized it yet, but he
was in love with a bookworm! It was therefore no
surprise that he found Melpomaen seated behind his
desk, crouched over a book. “What are you reading?”
Looking over Melpomaen’s shoulder, he caught a glimpse
of a not so chaste embrace and smiled, realizing his
lover was reading up on erotic literature. “Doing some
research?”

Blushing to the roots of his hair, Melpomaen instantly
closed the book. “You aren’t supposed to be here!”

“My parents are talking and I wanted them to have some
privacy.” Legolas hopped onto the desk and probed his
lover’s eyes. They should probably talk before
consummating their love. “Am I your first? For you are
my first lover.”

Still blushing, Melpomaen nodded. “Aye, you are. I
have no experience in bed and therefore I was reading
up on it.”

“We will figure out what to do,” said Legolas,
soothingly stroking Melpomaen’s fingers, which he had
taken into his. “Are you scared?”

Melpomaen shook his head. “Nervous.”

“So am I.” Legolas leaned in closer and pressed his
lips against Melpomaen’s. The lips parted and so did
the teeth. Sliding closer, Legolas engaged his lover
in a passionate kiss. They had to stop due to lack of
breath and looked adoringly into each other’s eyes. “I
want to bind with you. I want to know you in that
way,” said Legolas, eventually. 

“So do I.” The blush remained and even deepened. “But…
what about… you know… the mechanics of it?”

“Ah.” Melpomaen’s bottom lip quivered, which Legolas
found extremely erotic. “Do you have a preference,
meleth?” 

Feeling shy, Melpomaen shrugged his shoulders once.
“The book says that there will be pain – discomfort –
for the one being taken.”

“And you would prefer that not be you?” Legolas moved
closer still and slid onto Melpomaen’s lap. His
lover’s arms instantly came up behind him, holding him
close. Legolas clearly felt his lover’s arousal and
his hands wandered to undo the top buttons of
Melpomaen’s robes. “You may take me then.” Melpomaen
bit his bottom lip and that sight caused Legolas to
moan with desire. 

“I would prepare you properly and take good care of
you,” said Melpomaen, very much aware of Legolas’
erection pressing against him. Lips met his and he
deepened his loving kiss. His hands slipped beneath
Legolas’ shirt and explored his lover’s back. They
then dipped beneath the waistband and cupped the
Woodland’s Elf buttocks. 

“We might want to move this to the bed,” suggested
Legolas, who had managed to open Melpomaen’s robes. He
pushed them down the shoulders and kissed beneath the
collarbone. The dark-haired Elf threw back his head
and Legolas suckled the skin, clearly leaving a mark
for all to see tomorrow. 

“The things you do to me…” Melpomaen groaned, as
Legolas got to his feet – he wanted to feel him close!
Legolas pulled him along, using the hold he had on his
hand and they tumbled onto the bed. Within seconds,
they had done away with the restraining clothes and
Melpomaen found himself on top, straddling his
beautiful Woodland Elf. A blush had appeared on
Legolas’ cheeks and the azure eyes had deepened with
color, whilst the pupils had dilated with obvious
lust. “I even have oil.”

“Good, you come prepared then!” Legolas felt nervous
as well, but tried not to let it show. After all, this
was also his first time! 

Melpomaen drew in a deep breath, steadied himself, and
then kissed his way down from Legolas’ throat to the
first nipple. Twirling his tongue around the hard nub,
he rolled the other nipple between his fingertips.
Legolas groaned, encouraging him. “I won’t last long,
melethron11,” he said, feeling it was only fair to
warn Legolas. 

“Neither will I,” admitted Legolas, whose erection
begged for his lover’s attention. 

Melpomaen swallowed, hard, and then changed position.
He parted his lover’s legs and knelt between them. The
sight Legolas present – lust mingled with love –
almost pushed him over the edge and he squeezed
brutally at the base of his member, stopping himself
from climaxing at that very moment. 

Legolas grinned, smugly, realizing what effect he had
on his lover. Licking his lips, his right hand came to
rest against his chest, pinching his nipple. 

Seeing Legolas touch himself in such a way urged
Melpomaen on. “I want to kiss you for hours, worship
your body, but…” His hand already reached for the oil.


“I feel the same way.” Need had taken over and all he
wanted was to feel Melpomaen bind them – make him his.
“Claim me… bind with me.”

Melpomaen looked at Legolas, thoughtfully, and told
his lover to raise his hips. He pushed a pillow below
the narrow hips and removed the stopper from the vial
that held the oil. “I have never done this before, so
please tell me if anything feels wrong.”

“I will.” Legolas squirmed, and barely resisted the
urge to stroke himself to completion. He parted his
legs further in invitation and then the first slick
finger touched him in a place he had never been
touched before. Not even he himself had explored
there. 

Recalling everything he had read, Melpomaen took his
time massaging the ring of muscle. “Are you still
comfortable?” 

“Aye, I just wish you would move on to the next step.”
Legolas closed his eyes and that intensified the
sensation of Melpomaen gently inserting that first
finger. “Feels odd, but not uncomfortable,” he
commented in an effort to reassure his lover.

Melpomaen felt awed and grateful that Legolas felt
courageous enough to take this step. He wasn’t sure he
could have dealt with being on the receiving end that
first time. Adding more oil, he inserted two fingers
and stretched his lover’s virgin passage. 

Legolas squirmed beneath the invasive feeling. But
then, Melpomaen’s fingertips touched something inside
him and his eyes opened -- filled with pure bliss. His
erection, which had lessened during the probing,
returned to full hardness. “Oh!”

Melpomaen grinned, wickedly. He had searched for that
special place inside his lover’s passage, and
complimented himself on finding it. He memorized its
location, as he would later on direct his thrust in
that direction. “One more…”

Legolas sucked on his bottom lip, feeling a third,
oiled finger join the other two digits. “Feels… nice.”
That surprised him. He had thought he would feel
awkward, embarrassed even, but none of that had
happened. As Melpomaen’s fingertips repeatedly brushed
that gland inside his passage, he began to pant
heavily. “Please… I am about to come, meleth.” 

“Are you certain?” Melpomaen removed his digits from
Legolas’ body and studied his lover. 

“I am certain!” Legolas raised his hips invitingly.
“Bind us, Melpomaen.”

Melpomaen coated his member with oil and positioned
himself at his lover’s entrance. He hooked his arms
beneath the trembling legs and supported them in that
way. Slowly, he sank home, inching deeper into his
lover’s passage until Legolas had taken his full
length. 

Legolas’ hands became fists and clawed the sheets.
Although the sensation was divine, he felt impossibly
full. His wide eyes met Melpomaen’s and found his
lover looking at him with pure rapture. “How does it
feel?”

“I lack the words,” was all Melpomaen managed. Looking
down, he felt awed, seeing his member disappear into
Legolas’ body. They had become one now. “I bind myself
to you, Legolas, son Thranduil.”

“I bind myself to you, Melpomaen.” Legolas yelped
softly the moment Melpomaen delivered his first
thrust. The head of his lover’s member forcefully
glided over that sensitive place inside him and stars
exploded behind his eyelids, which he had closed in
concentration. “Do that again! And again!”

Melpomaen obliged and set a slow pace – even amidst
their passion he kept his lover’s best interest in
mind. He refused to leave him sore!

Orgasm came much too soon for them. They climaxed
simultaneously and Melpomaen’s eyes widened in
surprise, feeling Legolas’ inner muscle contract
around him. Next, it was Legolas’ turn to moan in
surprise, feeling Melpomaen reach orgasm. Warm seed
filled his insides and he bit into Melpomaen’s
shoulder, hoping it would ground him. 

Exhausted, Melpomaen rested his body atop his lover’s.
Legolas’ arms came up behind him, holding him close.
“I do not want this to end yet,” he whimpered, as his
satiated flesh grew lax and left his lover’s body.
Legolas giggled and the sound vibrated throughout his
body, making him chuckle in turn. “What is so funny?”

“We can do this again, silly. We can do it again as
many times as we like. And each time will be special!”
Sated and content, Legolas buried his face in
Melpomaen’s hair. “And maybe next time you will want
me to take you?”

“What was it like for you?” asked Melpomaen, lifting
his head so he could search Legolas’ eyes. 

“Bliss… You touched something inside of me with each
thrust and it literally catapulted me to orgasm. Maybe
you are curious to find out yourself?”

“Maybe,” said Melpomaen, enjoying teasing his lover a
bit in the afterglow of their lovemaking. “Did I hurt
you?” he asked, sobering instantly. 

“Nay,” replied Legolas. “You took great care in
preparing me.” He wiggled, experimentally. “I am not
even sore, I think.” Which was a nice surprise. 

“I am glad I did not hurt or disappoint you,” admitted
Melpomaen. “I did not know it beforehand, but the one
who does the taking has much responsibility.”

Legolas nodded once. “When the time comes I will take
good care of you too, melethron.” Legolas suddenly
yelped softly. “Oh my, we should clean up… I feel
sticky.”

Melpomaen pushed himself into an upright position,
swung his feet onto the ground and then pulled Legolas
to his feet as well. “Sore?” he asked again. He
couldn’t help it! He was concerned.

“Nay.” Legolas smiled at his lover. “It did not hurt –
I just felt… full,” he said after searching for the
right word to describe the sensation. “But you will
find out shortly how it feels.”


Melpomaen still managed to blush after making love to
Legolas and he allowed his lover to pull him into the
bathroom, where they enjoyed a long, hot bath.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“May I walk you back to your rooms?” Thranduil and
Elluin had talked for hours, but night was upon them
and it was time to escort her to her chambers. 

Elluin rose from the couch and nodded once. “I would
like that.” Her hand sought out Thranduil’s and their
fingers twined. 

They walked in silence, Elluin guiding him through the
long corridors. Their walk gave her the opportunity to
think about the unexpected turn her life had taken.
She had dreamt of Thranduil coming for her. Of him
declaring his love for her and offering her marriage –
of Legolas, Thranduil and she being the family they
should be. And when she looked in his green eyes, she
found that he was offering her that, and more. Love as
well. That was more than she had dared to hope for. 

Now, what was she supposed to do? She realized the
choice she had clearly. She could let her resentment
guide her, which would estrange them and then he would
return to Mirkwood. She would still be alone, although
she would have Legolas’ love. Or, she could accept
that they both had made mistakes and move on from that
point. In the end, her choice wasn’t that hard after
all. 

“This is where I live,” said Elluin, coming to a halt.
Thranduil’s hold on her hand tightened and she read
fear of rejection in his eyes. She realized how much
it had cost Thranduil to come here and ask for her
forgiveness, which she had granted. Did she really
want to throw that all away?

“Thank you for listening to me,” said Thranduil, still
feeling shy around her. He was always painfully aware
of how much he had hurt her. 

Elluin opened the door and gave him a long and
thoughtful look. “Would you like to come inside and
keep me company tonight?”

Thranduil’s heart missed a beat and his eyes widened.
“Elluin, are you…?”

“I know what I am saying – asking. And aye, I want
you. I still love you. I have grown weary of being
alone, of harboring any kind of resentment toward you
or myself. Legolas is right – we need to focus on the
present. I love you and…”

“I still love you,” whispered Thranduil, enthralled.

“Our circumstances are different now,” said Elluin.
“We have a son, who was born out of wedlock. We can
change that… We can change so much!”

“Does that mean… that when I propose… that you will
accept?” Thranduil found it hard to draw in his next
breath as he waited for her answer.

She cocked her head. “It does. I would have accepted
you as my husband decades ago and I still want you.
Maybe now – under different circumstances – we can
work out?”

“I want that,” whispered Thranduil, leaning in closer.
“It is my greatest wish to undo the past and to make
you mine – in every sense of the word.”

Hearing what he wasn’t saying, she nodded once. “I
want that too, Thranduil.” Now that she had made up
her mind to accept what fate was offering her, she
pulled him inside and closed the door behind him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elrond and Celebrían had appeared early at the
breakfast table, wanting to make a good impression on
their guests, but to their dismay, the only Elf from
the Mirkwood party present at their table was
Landiant. The golden-haired Elf was easily carrying on
a conversation with Glorfindel and Elrond noticed the
jealous look Erestor was giving the Woodland Captain.
It amazed him that someone like Erestor, who should be
confident in his love for Glorfindel, still managed to
suffer from jealousy. 

“I should apologize on my King and Prince’s behalf,”
said Landiant, seeing the disappointed expression in
Elrond’s eyes.

“Where are they? I expected them to join us.” Elrond
assisted his wife in seating herself and then took his
place at the head of the table. Normally, the twins
would be running around the room, creating havoc, but
they had been ecstatic to learn that Lindir would
spend time with them this morn. So, peace and quiet
reigned instead.

“I believe Legolas has a valid reason to be excused,”
began Erestor. “I ran into Melpomaen earlier this morn
and the only one way to describe his expression is
sated.”

Glorfindel laughed. “Ah, methinks that means they
bonded. I already wondered about that.”

“With Melpomaen being so accident-prone, it took them
some time,” said Erestor, teasingly. 

Celebrían smiled at hearing their bantering and
enjoyed the peace and quiet around her. It wouldn’t be
long before the twin whirlwinds would demand her
attention again. 

“I apologize for being late,” said Melpomaen after
clearing his throat. Behind him, Legolas stepped into
the room, whistling cheerfully. Oh, he *so* didn’t
want to do this, especially seeing Glorfindel’s
conspiring grin. 

“You are forgiven,” said Elrond, coming to the rescue.
“Please seat yourself and eat.”

“Aye, you need the food after using up so much energy
last night,” added Glorfindel. 

Melpomaen blushed, whilst Legolas leered at the
Imladris’ Captain. In a teasing voice, Legolas said,
“In that case, you should eat more yourself. You do
look a little pale, Glorfindel. Did Erestor exhaust
you?”

Erestor laughed, warmly, seeing Glorfindel’s irate and
slightly embarrassed look. “Quite the contrary,
meldir. Glorfindel’s stamina is legendary.” Content,
he saw Glorfindel’s expression brighten. 

Melpomaen moved the food around on his plate and
watched in amazement as Legolas wolfed down his
portion of the food. 

“You have got something – here,” said Landiant,
pointing at Melpomaen’s throat.

Melpomaen’s fingers probed the area. “Ah.” He then
pointed a finger at his lover. “Below the collar,
remember that.”

That comment made all present burst out laughing and
Celebrían’s silver giggling echoed through the room as
well. It wasn’t very lady-like to giggle along, but
she didn’t care. 

“Is there place for an additional guest?” asked
Thranduil, leading Elluin into the room. He held her
hand tightly, demonstrating the choice they had made
last night. 

Legolas immediately jumped to his feet and embraced
his parents, smiling happily. “I am so happy, Naneth.
I am happy to see you both – holding hands.”

“Naneth?” Elrond saw Erestor mouth the word as well.
“Would anyone please care to tell me what is going
on?”

“I will,” said Thranduil, escorting Elluin to her
chair. Once she sat down, he seated himself. One of
the servants quickly placed another plate and utensils
in front of the Mirkwood King.

“Elluin is my mother,” said Legolas, quickly, before
his father had a chance to explain.

Elrond arched an eyebrow. He knew her well and often
worked with her when new volumes on healing needed to
be archived. “Is that true?”

“Aye, it is.” Elluin smiled at Elrond. “It is a long
story, but it is sufficient to say that Thranduil and
I have reconciled.” She saw Legolas’ ecstatic
expression and added. “Last night, he proposed to me
and I accepted.” 

Thranduil beamed with pride. “She is my wife now.” 

Erestor and Elrond exchanged a glance. This meant
Legolas was now the legitimate heir to the Mirkwood
throne. Many things would change – in Imladris as well
as in Mirkwood.


--
1  pen-neth (sing.) –- young one (Sindarin, noun,
pronoun)
2  Ada  –- dad, daddy, papa (Sindarin, noun)
3  meleth –- love (Sindarin, noun)
4  meldis (sing.) –-  “female” friend (Sindarin, noun)

5  ind nîn –- my heart (Sindarin, noun) literally...
innermost feelings
6  melethen (sing.) –-  my love (Sindarin, noun)
7  pyn-neth (pl.) –- young ones (Sindarin, noun,
pronoun)
8  melethril –- (fem.) lover (Sindarin, noun) 
9  nana –- mom, mommy, mama (Sindarin, noun)
10  Naneth –- mother (Sindarin, noun)
11  melethron  –- (male) lover (Sindarin, noun)
From the Council of Elrond Quenyan and Sindarin
dictionary


 Definition of OC names:
Avoralas –-  abundant growth
Celach –-  flowing flame
Elluin –-  blue star
Ferlas –-  beech leaf
Landiant –-  broad bridge
Mornén –-  child of dark or night 
Nimpeirien –-  white daisy


*****
Part 12


Lómion’s fingers swiftly braided his lover’s thick,
dark hair. He had been doing this for several days now
and Ereinion seemed to enjoy these moments. By looking
in the mirror, Lómion saw that the former King had
closed his eyes and that a peaceful smile had appeared
on his lover’s face. 

Many things had changed since Estë’s visit that day.
The changes had happened unnoticed at first. He had
begun to touch Ereinion more often, offered to help
cook, even began to read the books Lórien had left
around the house, and he no longer felt intimidated
when it was time to go to bed. Once or twice, he had
turned the tables and had spooned up behind Ereinion,
whilst it was normally his lover holding him instead. 

Once he had grown aware of these changes, he had
observed Ereinion to find out if these changes pleased
his lover or not. But Ereinion hardly seemed to
notice, and if he did, his lover welcomed them, for
annoyance never showed in the dark eyes. 

“Done,” announced Lómion, regretting that he had to
stop caressing his lover’s silken hair. It was
amazing, but the need to touch Ereinion was still
growing stronger. 

“Thank you,” replied Ereinion, who had kept a close
eye on Lómion. His lover had changed; had become more
open and affectionate and they felt both more secure
in their relationship. “Let us greet the day then!” He
got to his feet and gathered his lover’s hands in his.
They had started to run each morning and it was
quickly becoming a routine. Dressed in boots, leggings
and loose-fitting shirts they left the cottage and
began to run. The gardens were a marvelous thing to
behold and he felt blessed to be allowed to stay here.


They ran for little over an hour and then removed
their clothes to take their daily swim. Lómion no
longer needed any encouragement to fool around with
him in the water and was trying to pull him under.
Happy laughter echoed through the gardens and it
seemed the birds sang an even sweeter song hearing it.

After their swim, they returned to the cottage,
finding new food items on the table. Each morning they
would find a basket filled with bread, fruits, cheese
and even occasionally some dry meat. They sat in
companionable silence, smiling at each other. 

After the noon meal, Ereinion would drag his lover
into the living area, where they spent hours reading
and even composing. Ereinion had been pleased to find
a flute the other day and had taken to playing it;
ignoring the strange look his lover had given him.
Questioning Lómion, Ereinion realized that his lover
knew little of the art of music and he had taken it
upon himself to teach him. 

“Would you sing for me?” asked Ereinion, realizing he
had never heart his lover sing before.

“My voice is not suitable for singing,” whispered
Lómion, feeling nervous. 

Ereinion raised an eyebrow. “I find that hard to
believe. All Elves are gifted in that way. Won’t you
at least try?” He ignored the pleading look Lómion
gave him and picked up the flute to play a song they
had composed. Whilst he had written the music, Lómion
had composed the text. 

Lómion felt cornered. He didn’t want to disappoint
Ereinion, but he truly believed he couldn’t sing. But
then the moment came for him to start singing and he
did so because of the pleading look Ereinion gave him.


Ereinion’s jaw practically hit the floor, hearing
Lómion sing. He had heard many minstrels in his time
perform, but not even Lindir or Ecthelion’s voice was
as sweet as Lómion’s. Once they had finished, he
leaned in closer to kiss his lover. “You sing even
more sweetly than Ecthelion, meleth1.” 

Lómion blushed. “You do not have to lie.”

“It is the truth.”

A warm smile graced Lómion’s features. “You are
speaking the truth?”

“Aye.” Ereinion returned the smile. The old Lómion
would never have believed him, would never have
accepted such a compliment, but the new Lómion did –
with a little encouragement.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night, when Ereinion stepped into their bedroom
to join his lover in bed, he found Lómion moving
awkwardly beneath the sheet. “What is a… Oh…” 

Lómion bit his bottom lip. He was aroused and had
hoped to bring himself to orgasm before Ereinion
joined him. Although he felt more comfortable in most
areas of their relationship, this aspect still worried
him. He just didn’t want to impose on Ereinion for
such banal needs.

Lómion’s face was an open book to Ereinion, who
removed his shirt and leggings on his way over to the
bed. Naked, he sat down on the side of the bed and
reached for Lómion’s face. He buried his hand in the
dark locks and gave his lover a patient smile. “I
would like to do that for you, if you would permit
it?”

Lómion squirmed. “I do not want to impose on you…”

“I do not see this as imposing,” whispered Ereinion,
stretching beside his lover and drawing him close. His
fingers curled around the slippery flesh and he
stroked firmly. In the meantime, his lips found
Lómion’s, and whilst maintaining eye-contact, he
slowly but determinedly brought his lover to orgasm.
Lómion trembled against him and a contended, sated
look appeared in the brown eyes. The act, however, had
made him hard as well and his erection pressed against
Lómion. 

“Let me return the favor,” whispered Lómion, who was
still taken aback each time Ereinion touched him
intimately. 

Ereinion moistened his lips, deciding to take a risk.
“Maybe you could bring me to orgasm in a different way
than just using your hand?” He shifted on the bed
until he was on his back and Lómion straddling his
hips. His lover’s dark, long hair cascaded down his
back and shoulders and the tips of the silken strands
caressed his skin. 

Lómion’s gaze darkened. “I tried,” he said, defeated.
“But I failed.” He had tried bringing Ereinion to
orgasm orally, but the experience had left him shaken.
It was the one act that still triggered his fear and
memories. The Dark Elf had often made him perform that
act and each time he had felt like suffocating, having
to swallow Eöl’s seed. 

“I did not mean ‘that way’,” said Ereinion, whilst
caressing his lover’s face. “I would like to feel you
inside of me.” Involuntarily, he sucked in his breath,
seeing his lover’s eyes widen. “But only if you wish
for that too.”

“I do not know,” replied Lómion in a wavering voice.
“I do not know if I can do that to you.”

“Why don’t we find out?” Ereinion threw caution to the
wind then and risked it all. “You have no idea how
much I want to feel you move inside of me. I have
wanted this for a long time and you are the only one
who can give me that. Please, meleth, won’t you try? I
will guide you through it.” Gently, he caressed
Lómion’s face.  

Lómion still wavered. “What if I cause you pain?” He
refused to hurt his beloved in that way!

“I will tell you and should you want to stop, you
can.” Ereinion realized that it was important for
Lómion to be in control. “But there won’t be any pain
because you will go slow and prepare me properly.”

“I…” Lómion still felt undecided, but then, he took
heart, realizing he would have to take this step
eventually. “Guide me then.” The way Ereinion’s eyes
sparkled with pleasure at hearing those words, took
Lómion aback. Did Ereinion want this so badly then?

“Spoon behind me!” Ereinion rolled onto his side and
sighed happily, feeling his lover press close. During
their conversation his lover’s arousal had weakened,
but now the flesh was growing hard again. 

“What do I do now?”

“What would you like to do?” Ereinion closed his eyes,
allowing himself to enjoy this moment in time. His
lover’s soft lips pressed kisses against the nape of
his neck and an exploring hand moved down his chest
and toward his groin. Lómion’s touches were light and
caring and it wasn’t long before Ereinion was panting
and pressing back against his lover’s erection. “There
is a vial of oil under the pillow.”

Lómion raised an eyebrow. “Did you plan this?”

“Nay, but I fervently hoped that this day would come.”
Ereinion smiled and rubbed his backside against his
lover’s member. “I always enjoyed being on the
receiving end, meleth.” 

Ereinion had hinted at that before, but it was the
first time his lover stated it that clearly. Lómion
had taken hold of the vial and removed the stopper.
“Ereinion?”

Ereinion sighed, happily, and pulled his knees closer
toward his chest. “Coat a finger with oil and then
massage the entrance to my body.” He knew it sounded a
bit clinical, but Lómion needed these instructions.
Once his lover felt more confident in making love to
him, the mechanics would change. 

Still biting his bottom lip, Lómion did as he was
told. Using one hand, he spread the globes and placed
his oily finger at the ring of muscle. Massaging the
guardian ring, his mind began to drift off – the Dark
Elf had never prepared him. Maybe he would have been
in less pain if Eöl had. But no, that was in the past
and he didn’t want to bring those dark memories into
their bed tonight! Unexpectedly, Ereinion pressed back
and the tip of his finger slid inside his lover’s
body. 

“Oh, yes…” Ereinion purred in delight. “Try to inch in
deeper.”

Lómion complied, wondering how this could be
pleasurable for Ereinion. But his lover quivered
against him in delight and seemed eager for more. 

“Now, explore a bit. You are searching for a nub of
flesh inside my passage.” Ereinion closed his eyes,
waiting for Lómion to find the gland that would start
his pleasure.

Lómion explored, timidly. The tight glove around his
finger made him wary – how was he supposed to take his
lover without hurting him? His fingertip suddenly
encountered the nub Ereinion had mentioned, drawing a
series of moans from his lover. “Is this it?”

“Aye… oh, stop now!” He was too close to finding
completion and squeezed at the base of his erection.
“You almost made me come!”

In spite of his nervousness, Lómion grinned. “I did?” 

“Oh yes… once you are inside of me, I want you to
thrust in such a way that you rub that place inside of
me.”

Lómion was beginning to realize that being on top
wouldn’t be as easy as he had thought. “What do I do
now?”

“Add more oil and return with two fingers.” Ereinion
felt fuller this time, and tried to impale himself on
his lover’s fingers when Lómion took his time
penetrating him. “Now move them about.”

Raising an eyebrow at those instructions, Lómion did.
“Why am I doing this?”

“You are stretching me, so I can accommodate you
later.” Ereinion looked at his lover from over his
shoulder. “That is why there won’t be any pain.”

“I see.” Lómion continued to stretch his lover, making
sure his fingertips brushed his lover’s prostrate
every so often. “What is the next step?”

Ereinion felt relaxed and more than ready to receive
his lover. “Coat your member with the oil.”

This was it, realized Lómion. Could he do it?

“Please, meleth? I need you.”

Ereinion’s plea made Lómion comply. He used plenty of
oil to coat his shaft and then drew in a deep breath.
“I am ready… I think.” 

“Good.” Ereinion smiled, looking forward to the
pleasure he would experience shortly. “Now slide
inside.” 

Lómion hesitated. “You will tell me if you are in
pain?”

“I will,” replied Ereinion, growing impatient. “Please
take me, meleth.” He wiggled his backside, hoping for
Lómion to finally take him. 

Lómion drew in a deep breath and took himself into
hand. He positioned himself at the entrance to his
lover’s body and watched in surprise how his hard
flesh easily glided inside. 

“Oh…” Ereinion’s eyes opened and his fingers clawed at
the sheets. “That feels…” Normally he wouldn’t talk
much during such an intimate moment but he knew how
important it was for Lómion to know that he was doing
everything right. “Please, more… deeper.”

Curling up around Ereinion, Lómion buried himself to
the hilt in his lover’s welcoming passage. He had
expected Ereinion to tell him to stop because it hurt,
but it looked like his lover wasn’t in any pain at
all. “Like this?”

“Aye, like that.” Ereinion purred, closed his eyes and
savored the feeling. Lómion filled him nicely. “How
does it feel for you?”

Lómion licked his lips. “I never felt anything like it
before. Are you sure you are comfortable?” It felt
amazing, being inside of Ereinion and his body was
urging him to thrust and bring them to orgasm.

“Comfortable?” Ereinion grinned. “I will feel more
comfortable once you start thrusting, meleth.” 

Lómion thrust and stars exploded behind his closed
eyelids. The sensation was divine and he nuzzled
Ereinion’s neck, deeply inhaling his lover’s scent. “I
did not think it would be like this.”

“You can think later – move now!” Ereinion pressed
back, desperate for his lover to pick up pace.

Lómion caught on and delivered another deep stroke,
rubbing his lover’s prostrate in the process.

“Aye, like that… again!” Ereinion guided his lover and
they set a slow, but devouring pace, with deep strokes
that almost drove Ereinion insane with the need to
come. He wrapped his fingers around his neglected
arousal and stroked firmly. 

Lómion let go of his fears and the strokes became
faster – deeper. Ereinion pushed back and it wasn’t
long before Ereinion tumbled over the edge. Warm cream
dripped from the slit and onto his hand. His body,
which had been tense a moment ago, relaxed. 

Not expecting the sensation of Ereinion’s inner muscle
contracting around his length, Lómion stilled and
submitted to the unexpected feeling. He climaxed a
moment later and buried his face in his lover’s long
hair. Trembling over his entire body, he clung to
Ereinion for support. 

Ereinion’s eyes opened and he looked at his lover from
over his shoulder. He waited for Lómion to come down
from the sensual high and then said, “Pull out now –
but do it slowly.”

Lómion obeyed, removing himself from his lover’s body.
His first look was at his lover’s backside. He
separated the mounds of flesh to check for blood.

“You did not hurt me,” said Ereinion, allowing the
probing. He gave Lómion a moment to convince himself
that he was fine and then turned onto his other side,
so they were face to face. “I told you before – there
does not have to be any pain.”

Lómion looked, thoughtfully, at his lover. The whole
experience had baffled him and his body still reeled
with release. “I…” The words wouldn’t come to him and
he stared at Ereinion. 

“Did you enjoy making love? I certainly did.” Another
soft purr left his lips and he licked his lover’s
throat, enjoying the slightly salty taste. 

“I did,” replied Lómion in a shaky voice. “But you
seemed to enjoy it too, which is…” He had never felt
any pleasure when the Dark Elf had taken him. 

“We made love, meleth,” said Ereinion, trying to
explain something important to Lómion. “You did not
take me against my will and you prepared me. We made
love -- you did not force yourself upon me. There is a
huge difference.”

Lómion nodded; that realization had finally reached
him as well. “You would like to do this again, then?”

“Aye,” said Ereinion, nodding his head. “Often.”

His lover’s words made him blush. “I might feel more
at ease the next time we… we make love.” 

Ereinion smiled and buried Lómion in a hug. His lover
finally understood.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Lindir cringed; how many times had Elladan tried to
get the melody right? Had tried and failed, he should
add. “Again!” Lindir wondered why Elladan continued to
come to him to study music. His student had no talent
for it! Elladan was a born warrior and many guards
would rather not spar with the powerful half-Elf.

Elladan sighed, drew in a deep breath, and played the
melody on his flute once more. 

Lindir’s ears hurt by the time Elladan was halfway
through the song. “Please stop,” he begged. 

Disappointed with himself, Elladan placed the flute
aside. “I am trying,” he whispered, wishing he would
do better. Looking at the minstrel, he wondered if he
would ever get over the attraction, which had started
at a young age, and had grown stronger after reaching
majority. He was a hundred and twenty years old now
and nine years ago, his little sister had been born.
Arwen had completed the family and had made her
parents very happy. But the only one who could ever
make Elladan truly happy was Lindir. Unfortunately,
the minstrel didn’t return his feelings. 

“Elladan? Are you even listening?” Irate, Lindir gave
Elladan a stern look. He loved the twin dearly and
they shared a special relationship, but Elladan seemed
always so scatterbrained around him! Lindir wondered
why. Elladan had sought him out since the twin had
learned to crawl and had even sneaked into his bed on
occasion, eager to be held. Once Elladan had grown
older, that had stopped, but the twin still enjoyed
his company and had asked to be trained in the art of
music. Lindir had reluctantly accepted, knowing that
Elladan had little talent for it, but he in turn
enjoyed Elladan’s company too. 

“I am…” Elladan looked at Lindir and once again his
stomach radiated the most intense feelings, which
traveled upward, carrying the sensation high into his
throat where he threatened to choke up. 

Lindir picked up the flute and looked, thoughtfully,
at Elladan, who also rose from the floor. “Maybe you
should go to the training grounds and work out? That
would force you to concentrate.”

Elladan hung his head in defeat, realizing he was
being dismissed. He felt terrible for disappointing
Lindir! “I am sorry. The next time, I will try
harder.” 

Lindir raised a hand and rested it on the twin’s
shoulder. The Elfling of old had long ago become a
grown adult. Elladan had reached his majority many
decades ago and it was time for him to take a mate. He
probably hadn’t done so because Elrohir hadn’t found a
suitable partner yet and would stay behind alone. The
twins were too close to allow for that happen. “Go to
Glorfindel and spar with him.”

Elladan nodded and wanted to mouth another apology,
but didn’t. He had made a fool out himself already, no
need to add to that. “May I return later?”

Lindir squeezed his pupil’s shoulder. “We will talk
during dinner, Elladan. And now, go.”

Being dismissed in that way hurt and Elladan left,
eager to lick his wounds.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


“Elladan? What is amiss?” Elrohir stopped sparring,
seeing his twin approaching the training grounds with
a defeated expression in the gray eyes. He walked
toward his twin and probed the distressed eyes. “What
did Lindir say this time?” He wrapped an arm around
his twin’s shoulder and guided him to an old beech,
where they sat down on the grass. He had been the
first and only one to learn that Elladan had feelings
for their former mentor. Hearing it had caused
feelings of insecurity inside him, as he had been
afraid that he would lose his twin to the minstrel.
But as time passed by, he grew worried, seeing Elladan
making no progress in winning Lindir’s heart. The
minstrel had never noticed the twin’s attraction – or
blatantly ignored it. 

“I do not know what else to do,” whispered Elladan,
feeling miserable. He leaned heavily against his twin
and savored the sensation of Elrohir holding him
close. “I spend as much time as possible with him. I
try so hard to be a good musician, but…”

“Your talent is not with music and you know that,”
said Elrohir in a soft voice. “I understand why you
keep trying though; you want him to be proud of you,
but you are trying to be someone you are not. You are
not a musician or a poet – you are a warrior.”

“But I do not want to be one! I want to be able to
spend time with Lindir and the one thing he cares
about the most is his music. It is the only way to
reach him!”

“I am so sorry, tôr2. But maybe you are trying too
hard to impress him? You are trying to beat him at
what he is best. You are doomed to fail.” During the
last few years, he had often comforted Elladan and he
was beginning to give up hope that the minstrel would
ever return Elladan’s feelings. At first, he had hoped
that Lindir wasn’t interested in his twin, for then
Elladan would remain his, but now, he felt sorry for
Elladan, who hurt so badly due to this unrequited
love.

“What do I do? How do I reach his heart?” Elladan
lifted pleading eyes and stared at his twin. “I know
that he lost his lover in the past, but one would
think that he would be ready to love again. After all,
more than a century has passed by!”

Elrohir inclined his head. “Lindir and Ereinion shared
a deep love; at least that is what our father told us.
It might be that he is just not interested in taking
another lover.”

“Then my love is doomed!” Crestfallen and utterly
discouraged, Elladan stared blankly ahead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Erestor raised an eyebrow at hearing such news. He had
been standing close and had overheard the twins’
conversation. Elladan was in love with Lindir? Aye,
the twin had always preferred Lindir’s presence above
all others, even when he had only been a child, but to
learn that this preference had matured into love
surprised him. 

It also left him conflicted. Elladan was a good
person. The twin had become a proud warrior, adept at
fighting off his enemies. He also had a heart of gold.
Elladan would make a good mate for Lindir, but…
Elrohir’s words rang true to him. Lindir had loved
Ereinion and had never shown interest to take a new
lover. 

“Such a mess,” whispered the Chief Advisor. What
should he do?

“If you want my advice, Lord Councilor, I would advise
you to get them together.”

Erestor drew in a deep breath. “Good afternoon, Ada3.”
Námo, invisible to all others, gestured to follow him,
which Erestor did. The twins were still whispering,
but he had heard enough. He knew what he needed to
know. “It has been a while since I saw you last.”

Námo inclined his head. “I have been here more often
than you know. Sometimes, you cannot see me either.”

That was rather alarming news! “What are you up to?”

Námo schooled his features in complete innocence. “I?
Up to? Nothing, Erestor. You know me.”

“Aye, I know you – that is why I am asking.” Erestor
fell into step with his father and studied him. “I
have missed you. Do you bring news from the Halls of
Waiting?”

“If you want to hear news, I can give you news,” said
Námo, teasingly. They had reached the rose gardens and
Námo sat down on a bench, plucking a rose and admiring
its coloration. “Do you remember your old friend
Maeglin?”

“Friend? I would hardly call him that. We met once, in
Gondolin.” Reluctantly, Erestor sat down as well and
watched his father pluck the rose’s petals one by one.


“What did you sense when you met him?”

“A tormented soul. I pitied him.”

“You were right… Maeglin has redeemed himself. The
child of twilight now dwells in Lórien’s gardens and
has even found a lover – Ereinion.” Námo carefully
monitored Erestor’s reaction. “The Last High-King’s
heart has been claimed, Erestor. Ereinion and Lindir
will never be lovers again.”

Everything fell into place for Erestor. “And that is
why you want me to encourage a relationship between
Elladan and Lindir?”

“That is one reason, aye.” Námo had plucked the rose
empty and let the remains drop to the ground. “It
would also help if Elladan had a lover when Elrohir
dies.”

Erestor’s eyes widened and he jumped to his feet.
“Nay, I won’t allow it! Elrohir is so gentle, so full
of life! You cannot claim him yet! He is too young!”

Námo gave his son a look filled with compassion. “I
know that, Erestor. But Eru’s will must be done.”

“His parents will be devastated! How can you do this
to them?”

“It is not my decision that Elrohir must die. It is
part of Eru’s song.” Námo straightened out the folds
of his robes. “Erestor, even you cannot stop this. You
are only an Elf, remember?”

Erestor trembled. “I faced such a decision once
before…” he said, realizing the terrible truth.

“Aye, and back then you chose Glorfindel. You refused
to leave his side until after he had died. He never
quite forgave you for choosing him over Gondolin. It
is a good thing that those memories are locked away
from him.” Námo understood his son’s terror, but could
do nothing to take it away. “There will come a time
when you have to make a similar choice.”

Erestor’s tremors worsened and he stared into his
father’s eyes. “Will I lose Glorfindel again?”

“I cannot tell you the answer to that question.” Námo
caressed his son’s face and wiped away the single tear
that descended down Erestor’s face. “You still have
some time left before Elrohir’s soul will travel to
the Halls of Waiting.”

“How long?” Erestor was afraid to hear the answer.
“Centuries? Decades?” Seeing his father shake his
head, his heart raced with fear. “Years?”

“Nay, months…” Námo wished he could change the future,
but everything had been laid out in Eru’s song. “Do
not waste any time in getting Lindir to accept Elladan
as his lover. Once Elrohir dies, Elladan will want to
follow him. Elladan might try to take his own life or
choose to fade. Lindir will be the only one to hold
him on Arda.”

“Oh, Ada! Why?” Erestor didn’t want any of this to
happen! He had heard so many things that upset him!
Elrohir would die and Elladan would try to follow his
twin. /And I will face another choice… If I choose
wrong, I will lose Glorfindel!/ He couldn’t lose his
lover! Glorfindel was his life!

Námo leaned in closer and wrapped his son in a
fatherly hug. “I know that my words offer you little
comfort, but you could try to trust in me.”

Erestor shook his head. “There won’t be a happy ending
to this story, will there?” 

Námo remained quiet; he wished he could tell his son
the outcome, but this knowledge was to be kept from
Erestor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


That night, Glorfindel wondered why Erestor lay
trembling in his arms. They had made love – slowly and
passionately – as Erestor had practically begged him
to take him. He had obliged his lover, feeling the
need inside Erestor to make love and he had hoped that
his lover’s depressed mood would disappear after being
intimate. But it seemed to have worsened. “What is on
your mind, melethron4? Will you share your troubled
thoughts with me?” He lay spooned behind Erestor and
it vexed him that he couldn’t see his lover’s
expression.

“I had a dream,” whispered Erestor, closing his eyes.
He pressed back against Glorfindel, desperate to feel
his lover as close as possible. 

“What happened in that dream to upset you?” Glorfindel
stroked his lover’s raven hair and pressed tender
kisses against the nape of Erestor’s neck. “Please
confide in me.”

Should he? He couldn’t keep it inside for long.
Glorfindel would be persistent and in the end, he
would tell him at any rate. “I dreamt you hated me.”

Glorfindel’s heart sped up. “I… what?” How could
Erestor possibly dream such a thing? “I love you!”

“In my dream you hated me. You no longer wanted
anything to do with me and rejected me. I never felt
lonelier.” Erestor fought back his tears at the memory
of Glorfindel rejecting him in the Halls of Waiting.
The blond Elf had been furious with him and that
rejection had broken his heart. How could he ever bear
it a second time? 

“I will never hate you!” said Glorfindel,
determinedly. “I love you! How could I hate you? You
are my life! I was nothing without you! I only felt
alive after you found me!” Feeling Erestor tremble,
Glorfindel rolled Erestor onto his back and stretched
beside his lover, who he pulled close again. Now, he
saw the swimming dark eyes. “Oh, Erestor, it was only
a dream! And dreams never come true.” Fear suddenly
coursed through him. “It was only a dream and not a
vision?” And even if it had been a vision, he would
make certain that it would never become true!

“I did not see it in the form of a vision,” admitted
Erestor, slowly turning onto his side. Face to face
with Glorfindel, he saw the shock in the azure eyes.
/You hated me once, Glorfindel. If you remembered the
truth, you would hate me still. Was what I did wrong?
Should I have insisted my father returned those
memories to you? But I cannot live without you!/

“I do not like the way you look at me,” whispered
Glorfindel, sensing his lover’s troubled thoughts. The
expression in Erestor’s eyes spoke of fear and hurt. 

“I do not want to lose your love, Glorfindel.”

“You never will. I will always love you.” Erestor
still trembled against him and Glorfindel was eager to
do away with his beloved’s fear. “I vow to always love
you, Erestor. I will never turn my back on you or hate
you.”

“Do not make such a promise,” whispered Erestor, quite
upset because he knew that Glorfindel was capable of
hating him and would go back to hating him once the
warrior recalled the truth. 

Shocked, Glorfindel asked, “Why? Are you afraid I will
break it?”

Erestor remained quiet, as he was unable to voice his
fears in detail. “Just hold me – please.”

Glorfindel obliged at once and held his distressed
lover. /No matter what will happen in the future, I
will never hate you! Never!/

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Feeling drained, Elrohir pushed the door open to his
rooms. Until now, he had kept Elladan company,
comforting his brother, who had remained upset for the
rest of the evening – even during dinner when Lindir
had joined them. /I wish there was something I could
do, tôr. I do not like seeing you so unhappy./ But
there was so little he could do! What *was* he
supposed to do, then? Go to Lindir and beg the
minstrel to finally notice his twin? Elladan’s pride
would not have that!

He stripped, folded his clothes, and draped them over
the back of the chair before heading toward the bed.
What he needed was a good night’s sleep! But then, his
guilty conscience attacked him; shouldn’t he have
stayed with Elladan? Have sat with his brother through
the night? But no, he needed rest! He had just
returned from a two-week patrol and was tired to the
bone!

What was that? He didn’t remember leaving a book on
his bed! Curious, in spite of his fatigue, he picked
up the book – which looked brittle and smelled of ages
gone by. He knew an antiquity when he held one in his
hands. This book was old! But how had it found its way
into his room? Puzzled, Elrohir sat down and opened
it. 

Turning the pages, he realized the book mostly held
poetry. Elrohir didn’t recognize the handwriting and
searched for a name, which would lead him to the poet
and owner. 

On the last page he found what he had been looking for
– a name. But a name, which he had never expected to
find. 

“Ecthelion, Captain of the House of the Fountain?”
Could that be? Had he come across some poetry the
fabled warrior had written? “How did this get into my
room?” Or should he be asking how it had gotten into
Imladris? Elrohir was a bookworm, much like Erestor
and he and his father had spent much time in the
library, familiarizing himself with the volumes there.
He knew with certainty that his father’s library held
no poetry written by Ecthelion!

Leafing through it, he was surprised to notice the
depressed tone the poetry radiated. Ecthelion wrote of
love never found, family and friends lost, and this
overwhelming desire to finally know love. 

Gloomy shores, empty and forgotten
Stained with blood
Full of remnants of past glory

Black sand keeping time
Passing
Life into death

Shadows glimmer in the water
Remains of souls long gone

Eternal feelings of loneliness
Almost lost…
The sound of the flute wakes my heart

Pain claims it
Making my heart
Forever lost

Shivers ran down Elrohir’s spine. Glorfindel and his
father had taught him about Gondolin’s history and the
blond Captain’s voice had always been warm and caring
when mentioning Ecthelion. Once or twice, Elrohir had
thought he had even heard some old hero-worship echo
in Glorfindel’s voice. In Glorfindel’s tales,
Ecthelion was a bright light, warm and loving. But
reading these poems gave him a different view of the
Captain of the Fountain. A lost soul, trying to find
love – some sort of connection with his loved ones.
“Do all his poems breathe such dark loneliness?” he
wondered. 

Tonight
Love is alive
Burning deeply
The skin touched by you burns
It seems like we are a million years apart
Though in reality we are one

Equal love

Oh, my beloved
Open your eyes
See the truth

Find me!

The second poem woke even more questions in Elrohir,
who thoughtfully closed the book and placed it on the
nightstand next to his bed. /I must speak with
Glorfindel. He will know where this book came from./
But that wasn’t the most important question on his
mind – he wanted to learn more of Ecthelion and hear
the things Glorfindel hadn’t told him before!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


“Why did you do that?” In the Halls of Waiting,
Ecthelion gave Námo a resentful look. “That book was
never meant for his eyes – for anyone’s eyes! It
burned to cinder! It cannot exist again!”

Námo shrugged. “Remaking a book is an easy feat.” 

Ecthelion’s eyes widened. “You remade it? Why?” His
gaze traveled back to Vairë’s latest tapestry, showing
him Elrohir closing the book and lying down to rest.
“I wrote that when I thought I would never find love!
Erestor and Glorfindel had just bonded and I felt
lonely! Elrohir will think me…”

“Lonely? In need of love?” Námo shrugged a second
time. “And isn’t that the truth?”

Ecthelion growled. “You had no right to do that!”

“Oh, but I need to prepare him for you!” Námo gave
Ecthelion a conspiring look. 

“Nay, you do not! Elrohir won’t die! I will find a way
to prevent it!”

“Are you getting cold feet, my Lord?” teased Námo.

“You…You are… You enrage me!” Ecthelion turned on his
heel and marched away, leaving behind a chuckling
Námo.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Erestor failed to concentrate on his correspondence.
Melpomaen had written him a long letter, which
breathed contentment and fulfillment. Life in Mirkwood
was different these days. Thranduil was happily
married to Elluin, making Legolas the legal heir to
Mirkwood’s throne. Melpomaen and Legolas had long
bonded and were living their love. And by the looks of
this letter, even Thranduil’s subjects had felt the
change, as some of them requested to visit Imladris to
strengthen relations between the realms. 

One of the Woodland Elves requesting permission to
visit was Landiant, and Erestor had already sent word
back that the Captain was welcome. He had even bit
down the hints of jealousy he had felt when writing
that reply, as he still remembered how well Glorfindel
and Landiant had gotten along during Thranduil’s
visit. 

“You aren’t concentrating,” whispered Glorfindel into
his lover’s ear. “Shouldn’t you be replying to our
dear Melpomaen?”

“I approved Landiant’s request to visit Imladris,”
said Erestor, feeling the need to unburden his heart. 

Glorfindel arched an eyebrow. After the Mirkwood party
had left, Erestor had admitted to feeling jealous of
the Mirkwood Captain, and hearing that had utterly
stunned Glorfindel. “I love only you, Erestor.”

Erestor sighed. “Glorfindel, I do not know why I am
jealous. I never felt jealous before.” It had worsened
after his father’s visit, during which Námo had told
him of his impending choice. He was so afraid of
losing Glorfindel that he tried to hold on to his
lover as tightly as he could.

Glorfindel cocked his head to capture Erestor’s gaze
and smiled. “I love you, Erestor. Not some Mirkwood
Elf. We have been together for a long time and maybe
it is understandable that you are feeling insecure.
But I can only repeat my vow – I will always love you.
Always.”

/I wish I could believe that./ Erestor bowed his head
and allowed Glorfindel to pull him to his feet. Once
he stood, his lover’s arms came up behind him and he
pressed close against the warrior’s body. /Oh, I need
you so much. I love you so much!/ Should Glorfindel
reject him again, he would not survive having to go on
without the other half of his soul.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


“Lindir? May I have a word with you?” Erestor had
carefully thought this over – at least he hoped so. In
the end, he had reached the conclusion that he had to
talk to his old friend. His father would never lie to
him, and Námo *had* said that Elrohir would die. He
would never doubt his father’s words. If Elrohir’s
death was a fact, he had to take precautions now and
ensure that they didn’t lose Elladan as well. “It is a
personal matter.”

Lindir placed his lyre aside and gestured for Erestor
to seat himself close to the fire place. “You can
always talk to me, meldir5.” 

Erestor sat cross-legged and wondered how to introduce
Elladan to their conversation. He decided on a detour.
“I was wondering how you fare, Lindir. It has been
over a century since you lost Ereinion and I wonder if
you truly dealt with his death.”

Lindir’s expression grew sad. “Ereinion… I loved him
with every ounce of my being.” 

Erestor reached for Lindir’s right hand and covered it
with his own. “Have you dealt with the loss?”

“I believe so,” said Lindir, after carefully
considering Erestor’s question. “I found peace of mind
whilst staying with Círdan. We talked for nights and I
sang to Ereinion – saying my goodbyes.”

Erestor nodded once. “I had hoped so.”

Lindir cocked his head. “Why bring this up now,
meldir?” He hadn’t spoken about Ereinion for so long!
Why would Erestor address this now?

“Because I have learned that someone is in love with
you.” Erestor monitored Lindir’s reaction and sensed
his friend’s surprise. “You did not notice?”

“In love? With me?” Lindir felt shocked. “But who… and
how do you know…?”

“I overheard him confess his love for you.” Erestor
smiled, seductively. “This one truly loves you – has
loved you for many years.”

“It is a male Elf then?” He still didn’t know what to
make of this development!

“Aye, it is a he.” Erestor leaned in closer and he
whispered his next words. “I believe him worthy of
you, meldir.” 

“Who is it?” asked Lindir, wondering who in Elbereth’s
name would fall in love with him. 

“It is a delicate matter,” said Erestor. “And I would
prefer not to reveal his name yet.”

“What do you wish to know?” asked Lindir, knowing
Erestor well enough to realize his old friend was
after specific information and would only divulge the
name after receiving those answers.

“Is your heart open? Would you welcome such interest?
His love? Or has your heart closed and do you still
cling to memories? Please understand. I need to know
this first, for your suitor is precious to me.”

Those last words puzzled Lindir. Not many Elves were
that close to the Chief Advisor! 

“Please search your feelings and answer me
truthfully,” requested Erestor. 

Lindir nodded once and searched inside. What were his
feelings in this matter? “Your words surprised me,
Erestor. I never thought someone would be interested
in me in that way ever again.”

“I understand that it is a surprise,” said Erestor,
stroking the back of Lindir’s hand. “But would you
welcome it?”

Lindir cocked his head. “It would be nice to have
someone to come home to. Someone to hold at night.
Someone to love, but…”

“Do you worry that you might betray Ereinion?” asked
Erestor, sensing what was holding Lindir back.

“In a way, aye,” admitted Lindir. “But he is in the
Halls of Waiting and I am alive. And it does not look
like I will die shortly. He would want me to focus on
the living.”

Erestor nodded again. “You would welcome his interest
then?”

“I might…” whispered Lindir. Letting down his guard,
he added, “I do feel lonely and I miss having a love
in my life. But what if I do not return his feelings?
What if I cannot love him?”

Erestor smiled, reassuringly. “You already love him,
meldir.” Over the years, he had seen the affection and
love, which Lindir held for Elladan, grow. Aye, the
minstrel adored both twins, but Elladan had always had
a special place in his heart. Maybe it had started out
as friendship on Lindir’s part – trying to befriend an
Elfling – but Erestor knew it had always been more on
Elladan’s part. Elladan had been in love with Lindir
forever. Childhood adoration was only one step away
from falling in love. 

“I do? Would you give me his name then?” Lindir inched
closer. 

“Lindir… Who has been following you around ever since
he was born? Who looks at you with large, adoring
eyes? Who tries so hard to please you whilst he is
doomed to fail as a musician?” 

Lindir’s heart missed a beat, as he knew exactly who
Erestor was referring to. “It cannot be Elladan!”

Erestor gave his friend a blinding smile. “Elladan is
in love with you. That is why he asked you to train
him in the art of music, whilst he has no talent for
it. It is his way to spend time with you. Did you
really not realize this?”

Lindir shook his head. “It never crossed my mind that
he could be in love with me!” 

“So, what are your feelings in this matter? Will you
give him a chance to win your love?”

Stunned, Lindir blinked. “Erestor, I… I do not know… I
never thought… By the Grace of the Valar, what am I
supposed to do? He is a child!”

Erestor chuckled. “Elladan came of age over half a
century ago. He is an adult and it is time for him to
take a mate. Stop looking at him as that Elfling who
crawled after you!”

“How can you say that?” Lindir’s white hair danced
furiously against the small of his back, as he rose
from the floor and began to pace. “He is Elrond’s son!
What do you think Elrond will do when he realizes his
son is in love with me? I am his teacher!”

“You used to be his teacher, Lindir. The child has
grown up and is an adult.” Erestor grinned, imaging
Elrond’s reaction. “I believe he would be stunned,
much like you. But once the shock wore down, he would
approve. Lindir, Elladan and you are well-suited for
each other!”

“I do not know what to think,” whispered Lindir,
feeling quite lost. “I will never be able to keep this
from Elladan the next time we meet. I will treat him
differently, unwillingly.”

Erestor rose from the floor and walked over to his
friend. “Lindir, stop pacing and look at me.”
Reluctantly, the minstrel complied and Erestor probed
the large blue eyes. “Look me in the eye and tell me
you feel nothing for him!”

“I cannot do that,” mumbled Lindir, bowing his head in
embarrassment. “I do not know what I feel for him, but
there is something.”

“Then give Elladan his chance!” Erestor lightly shook
Lindir, forcing the minstrel to rebuild eye-contact.
“You know how precious love is and how swiftly it can
be taken away from you. Do not waste precious time,
meldir. Open your eyes and admit to yourself that not
only does Elladan love you, but that you return his
feelings.”

Lindir swallowed, nervously. “He is so young,
Erestor…”

“Age does not count as an excuse not to love, Lindir.”


Lindir sighed, deeply troubled. “I need to give this
matter some thought.”

“Do not waste too much time,” said Erestor, walking
toward the doorway. “Take hold of love when it finds
you. Do not dismiss it!” He closed the door behind him
and rested his back against the wall. “That is done –
I hope.”

“You did well,” commented Námo, grinning widely.  

Erestor muttered beneath his breath and glared at his
father. “Your visits are becoming more frequent.”

“I wanted to tell you that you did the right thing.”
Námo brushed his son’s face with a tender touch and
then walked down the corridor. “You will be seeing me
more often, Erestor.”

“Where are you going now?” said Erestor, groaning, as
he realized that his father had more hidden agendas
than he had ever thought possible!

“That does not concern you, my son!” Námo looked over
his shoulder, gave Erestor a wink and then disappeared
from view. He had another present to deliver to
Elrohir’s rooms!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 


“Glorfindel? Can I ask you something? Something
personal?” Elrohir had located him in the Captain’s
office, where he was slaving over this month’s duty
rosters.

“Are you here to steal my duty rosters again?” asked
Glorfindel, goodheartedly. He was happy Elrohir was
here to distract him for working out the assignments
was driving him mad! He smiled at the fond memories of
Elrohir stealing the rosters from him and hiding
beneath the desk. Ah, the twins had grown up too
quickly, but luckily there was a new Elfling to dote
upon. 

“Nay, not this time.” Elrohir seated himself opposite
the Captain and fumbled with the corner of his sleeve.


Realizing that something was wrong, Glorfindel sobered
and stopped teasing the twin. “What brings you here
today?” It was more often Elladan than Elrohir who
sought him out. Although both were accomplished
sword’s men, it was Elladan who excelled at weapon’s
skill. Elrohir was more like his father and had the
makings of a scholar and a healer. 

“I wondered if you had ever seen this book before.”
Elrohir placed Ecthelion’s book of poetry on the desk
in front of Glorfindel. 

Glorfindel picked it up and looked at it, critically.
“I cannot say I have.” Opening it, his gaze was
instantly drawn to the name on the last page.
“Ecthelion?” He frowned; he had never known his friend
wrote poetry. “How did you come by it?” Glorfindel
read some of the poems and recalled his friend’s,
often somber, moods. 

“I found it in my room. I never put it there.” Elrohir
closely watched his former tutor. “You always spoke of
Ecthelion fondly and described him as an energetic
person, with a lust for life. I have read most of
those poems by now and they breathe a different mood.”

Glorfindel nodded once. “Ecthelion avoided speaking
about his loneliness. I sensed he was not happy, but
he would not confide in me. Only once, did he slip,
and mention missing having a love in his life. Maybe
his moods became even more depressed after I bonded
with Erestor.”

“Who is the real Ecthelion, then? The valiant warrior
you painted in your stories or the lonely soul who
wrote these lines?”

“He was a combination of both.” Glorfindel closed the
book and placed it back onto his desk. “Ecthelion was
a complex Elf, Elrohir. I cannot describe his
character in a few words. He was a valiant warrior. He
took out more Balrogs than I did.” Glorfindel closed
his eyes. “I witnessed his death, Elrohir. He died a
hero – more so than I ever did. He died defending
Tuor. He literally sacrificed his life to save him.” 

Elrohir took hold of the book and his fingertips
caressed the withered leather. “Do you wish to keep
it? You have ties with Ecthelion, I do not. It seems
more fitting that you should have it.”

But Glorfindel shook his head. “You found it. You keep
it. I do not know who put it in your rooms, but I
believe there is a reason why you found it.”
Glorfindel smiled, weakly. “Knowing Ecthelion, he
hoped no one would ever read it and that it had been
burned in Gondolin. It is a miracle that it survived
the fire.”

Elrohir rose, pressing the book against his chest. “I
will keep it then. Glorfindel, thank you for
discussing Ecthelion with me. I know that could not
have been easy. I still sense pain when you mention
him.”

“He was a good friend, Elrohir. I trusted only two
Elves with my life in those times and they were
Ecthelion and Erestor.”

Elrohir nodded once. “You can always borrow it, if you
change your mind and want to read it.”

“Thank you. That is very kind.” He would always
remember Ecthelion fondly, but also with pain in his
heart, for his trusted friend had died too young and
without having known a lover’s embrace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


“Why are you doing this?” Ecthelion was trying hard to
remain in control of his raging emotions. One moment
he had been wandering the endless corridors of the
Halls of Waiting, and the next, he found himself
standing beside Námo in Glorfindel’s office,
overhearing their conversation. “Why did you take me
here? Aren’t you breaking any rules by allowing me to
witness this?”

Námo shrugged his shoulders. Within the blink of an
eye, he transported them back to the Halls of Waiting.
He had taken Ecthelion to his private Hall, where
souls seldom came. He sat down and studied Ecthelion.
“Elrohir’s death is approaching.”

“How will he die?” Maybe if he knew, he could find a
way to prevent it!

Námo sensed those thoughts, but didn’t respond to
them. It was folly of Ecthelion to think he could
change Eru’s song. “The twins will leave on patrol and
will have a run in with Orcs. Normally, they would
easily take them out, but Elladan will be distracted,
as Lindir will have accepted his love. Elladan will
let his guard down and the Orcs will take advantage of
his open back. Elrohir will take the lethal blow,
meant for his twin, and die.”

“Oh, no,” whispered Ecthelion, shocked. “I thought he
would not die for many more centuries!”

“Nay,” replied Námo in a compassionate tone. “He will
die before reaching his next begetting day.”

“Eru is cruel.”

“Nay, that is not true. In time, you will see the
wisdom to his song.” Námo felt sorry for Ecthelion,
who only saw death – and not the chance at love the
two souls would be given. “When the day of his death
comes, I will take you with me.” The first face he
wanted Elrohir to see in death was Ecthelion’s.

“Why? 

“Because you will be able to soothe him in a way I can
not. Because you already love him.” Námo rose from his
chair and stood in front of the soul. “Ecthelion, you
cannot stop Eru’s song from becoming reality, but you
can be there to lessen Elrohir’s pain.” And Elrohir,
in turn, would soothe Ecthelion’s.

“I will be there,” promised Ecthelion, but his heart
felt heavy, as he simply didn’t want Elrohir to join
the dead. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


“What is this? Another ‘gift’?” Elrohir felt wary,
finding a delicately sculpted mithril flute on his
bed. Whoever had placed it here had made a mistake. It
was Elladan who aspired to be a musician!

Elrohir cautiously approached his bed. The flute
looked innocent enough, but its mere presence meant
someone had been inside his rooms whilst he had talked
to Glorfindel. This ‘visitor’ could have left other
surprises as well! 

Elrohir extended his arm and picked up the flute. It
had been crafted by a true master and the design was
astounding – and it was old…

“Elladan? Are you in there?” Lindir knocked on the
door. He had long contemplated his next step and had
realized that he needed to talk to the twin. Hearing
some muttering inside the room, he pushed down the
door handle and entered. Finding one twin in the room
Elladan and Elrohir shared, a quick look told him that
he was dealing with the younger twin and not Elladan.
“I am sorry… I should not have entered like that.”
Lindir wanted to turn about and leave when he caught
sight of the magnificent instrument in Elrohir’s hand.
Entranced, he walked toward the younger twin. “May I?”


“Did you leave it here? For Elladan?” asked Elrohir,
placing the flute in Lindir’s hand.

“I do not possess a flute made from mithril.” Lindir
sucked in his breath, finding delicate writing on one
side of the flute. “Look here.”

“What does it say?” Elrohir tried, but couldn’t
decipher the writing.

“I know what it says,” whispered Lindir. “Some of the
bards, who resided in Gondolin used this script to
name their instruments.”

“Gondolin?” Elrohir grew suspicious; was this flute
somehow connected to Ecthelion? “What does it say?” 

“The silver wind breathes my name… Ecthelion.” Lindir
grew pallid, remembering his friend of old. “I have
seen him play this flute. Oh, he was a true master,
Elrohir. I never came close to mirroring his talent
for the flute.”

“This flute belonged to Ecthelion?” Elrohir blinked.
What has happening to him? Why was he suddenly finding
objects that had belonged to Ecthelion in his rooms? 

“He allowed me to play it once,” said Lindir. His
pallor slowly faded and a fond smile appeared now that
the initial shock had worn of. “Her sound is
unrivaled.”

“Maybe you should keep it then,” suggested Elrohir,
feeling ill at ease, receiving these valuable gifts. 

“Oh no, I never could.” Reverently, Lindir handed the
flute back to Elrohir. “You said you found it here?”

“It was lying on my bed. I do not know who placed it
there.”

“I cannot answer that question either,” said Lindir,
feeling thoughtful. “As far as I know Ecthelion’s
belongings were burned in the great fire that
devastated Gondolin.” Lindir looked into Elrohir’s
eyes and saw the questions there. “Ecthelion was a
master-minstrel, Elrohir. I do not even begin to
compare to him. He was blessed with music. Melody and
words flowed through his very veins.” Lindir nodded
once, and then headed for the doorway. “If you happen
to see your brother, please ask him to seek me out for
I need to talk to him.”

“I will,” replied Elrohir, absentmindedly. He couldn’t
stop staring at the flute in his hands. First, he had
found that book and now Ecthelion’s flute. Just what
*was* happening?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


“You found these in your rooms?” asked Erestor.

Elrohir nodded once. He would have preferred to talk
to his father, but his parents had taken Arwen for her
first visit to the Golden Wood and wouldn’t return for
another fortnight. So he had gone to Erestor instead.
“I do not know what this means. Glorfindel and Lindir
told me that they thought Ecthelion’s belongings had
been burned in the great fire.”

“And yet you found them in your room. They appeared
out of nowhere, so to speak?” Erestor recognized his
father’s touch. 

“Aye, and I offered the book to Glorfindel and the
flute to Lindir, but both of them told me I should
keep them.”

Remembering Elrohir’s fate was bound to Ecthelion’s,
Erestor asked, “Would you like to keep them?”

Elrohir nodded, timidly. “I find I like his poetry
more than I at first thought. I read all the poems and
not all of them are dark and speak of longing.”

“And the flute?”

Elrohir searched for words. “I am no minstrel – not
even a gifted musician, but I wonder what such a
magnificent instrument would sound like.”

“Why don’t you find out?” Erestor handed Elrohir the
flute. “Play me a melody, pen neth6.” 

Elrohir felt nervous, placing the mouth piece against
his lips. “Do you think the last one to play this
flute was Ecthelion?”

“I do,” replied Erestor, leaning back in his chair. He
had heard Ecthelion play and even if Elrohir was only
half the musician Ecthelion had been, the sound of
that flute would be enchanting.

Elrohir closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath, and
played a simple song. But the music that came out of
the flute was nothing like he had thought it would be.
It was magical and he felt heavily entranced by the
time he finished the melody. 

Erestor’s eyes opened and searched Elrohir’s features.
There was no denying that his father’s words would
come true – he knew it that instant. Elrohir would die
and find Ecthelion’s soul in the Halls of Waiting.
“Aye, you should keep the book and the flute. Read the
poems and play the flute as often as you like. They
belong to you now – I truly believe Ecthelion would
want that.”

Elrohir nodded. “I will take them back to my room with
me. But what if I find more of these kinds of items?
Items that belonged to Ecthelion and suddenly appear
in my room?”

“Then you accept them,” said Erestor in a calming
tone, realizing fate was about to change the lives of
many Elves in Imladris.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


“Is *that* Maeglin?” Idril looked on in surprise,
seeing her former suitor seated on the grass, close to
the stream. Bright butterflies had found a temporary
home in the long hair and lady bugs were flying around
the Elf’s fingers. 

“Not Maeglin,” said Lórien. “This is Lómion. Remember,
I explained this to you.”

Next to Idril, Tuor snorted. “He might have changed
his name, but he remains the same.”

But Idril shook her head. “I am not so sure about
that.” Lómion, as Lórien called him now, was smiling,
and quite enchanted with the lady bug dancing between
his fingers. One butterfly stirred and climbed up the
dark hair, whilst a caterpillar nestled near the neck,
cocooning and getting ready to shed his old skin – and
life – and transform into a beautiful butterfly. “But
I would like to get a bit closer before I make up my
mind.”

“By all means, do.” Lórien stepped aside and watched
as Idril approached Lómion, who was still unaware of
her. 

“I should go with her.” 

But the Valar shook his head. “Stay here, Tuor. This
is between Idril and Lómion for now.” Tuor was the
more resentful one of the two and Lórien knew the Man
would lash out at Lómion, only seeing Maeglin. But
Idril was different. Idril would see the change. She
had always seen more than others – had had visions. 

Idril came to a halt beside Lómion. So focused was the
Elf on those butterflies that he didn’t notice her
presence. And when Lómion began to sing softly,
Idril’s lips formed a smile. Lórien had been right.
Her husband might never admit that this was a changed
Elf, but she could. Her conversation with the Vala
returned and she recalled why she had come here in the
first place. “Lómion?”

“Estë?” The only female voice he ever heard here in
the gardens was hers and he looked up, smiling
brightly at her. But then the smile cracked and terror
appeared in his eyes. The butterflies clung to his
hair, disturbed, as he jumped to his feet. 

“Stay! Do not run!” She reached out a hand, trying to
catch his sleeve, but he was faster and Lómion turned
to run. Unfortunately for Lómion, he chose the wrong
direction to flee in and found himself facing Lórien
and Tuor. 

Panicking, Lómion turned on his heel and found Idril
standing close to him. Choosing the lesser of two
evils, he faced Idril.

“Please calm yourself,” said Idril, softly. The
serenity, which she had seen in his eyes just moments
earlier, was gone and fear had replaced it. One by one
the butterflies let go and flew away from them. “I
regret disturbing your peace, but Lórien asked me to
talk to you.”

Where was Ereinion? Where was his lover? Frantically,
he looked over at the cottage, but there was no sight
of his beloved! Did he really have to face Idril and
Tuor alone? He wrapped his arms around his waist,
trying to make himself feel a bit protected and
lowered his eyes to stare at the grass. 

“I do not think