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The Gift	By : mirasaui Category: +Third Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 9163 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
The Gift
by Mirasaui

Part 14: Love Under the Stars
"By the Valar, he is beautiful," the Elda thought, gazing down at the one to whom he had just confessed his love. Lindir's cheeks were flushed and his eyes, which had darkened with desire, were as velvet pools of deepest indigo. His pink lips were parted and the Elda could feel the minstrel's soft breath as it caressed his face. Silken strands of snow-white hair spread like a fan across the coarse grey folds of the woollen cloak on which they lay. Glorfindel released the ties on Lindir's tunic, exposing the minstrel's bare chest. He ran his fingers lightly over its warm surface. Lindir's skin was soft and supple, like the velvet petals of the roses in Celebrían's garden.
Glorfindel moved his hand so it lay directly over Lindir's heart, feeling its beat as it fluttered under his palm. "Gur-e-guren, meleth-e- guilen. Penen-vain. (1)," he whispered.
Kissing Lindir tenderly, Glorfindel whispered words of love into the minstrel's ear. "You are mine tonight, melethen (2), that is if you are willing. Let me know what your heart desires."
"I want you, pen-en vain, (3)" Lindir replied. I wish to be yours, to belong to you forever. Take me now, do to me as you will. Maethoren Valthen, seronen vell (4)."
Their union was like the first day of spring, when the dormant life hidden in the trees awakened and the grey nubs on the branches reluctantly released tiny green shoots, which slowly uncurled to bask in the warm, life-giving rays of the sun. When the stark, barren limbs of winter blossomed with colour, bringing hope to the heart as nature clothed itself in all its glory. When from death and decay, new life and beauty sprang forth.
Lindir melted the winter and brought new life to Glorfindel's heart. Like a moth to a flame, Glorfindel was drawn to the gentle elf and he knew that now he had claimed Lindir for his own, their lives would never be the same. Their love was new but somehow Glorfindel was aware that it would never die, for Lindir gave what was his unconditionally and he gave it all. His heart, his soul, his very essence, all poured out for the taking and Glorfindel drank of it like fine wine.
Never had he felt this content, not even in the bliss that was Valinor. Unable to resist, Glorfindel bent his head and pressed his lips to those of his now sleeping lover, tasting again the essence that was Lindir, feeling his heart sing with unrelenting joy. Sighing, he sat up and began to search for the clothing they had shed so wildly. As much as he wished to stay, Glorfindel knew it was time to leave. Lindir was on holiday but the warrior had to be up with the dawn to ride with the morning patrol.
Crawling inelegantly on all fours, drawing a merry laugh from his partner who had come awake with the gentle kiss, Glorfindel managed to gather together all the stray garments and sort them by owner. Lindir watched the Elda as he crawled through the wet grass gathering together their cast off apparel. The ancient warrior reminded him of the large yellow mountain cat that was often seen prowling the high mountain passes. Glorfindel's thighs rippled with muscle, mirroring the sleekness of the stealthy feline, the downy softness hiding the dangerous strength and power lying just beneath the surface. As the large cat silently stalked its victim, waiting for the perfect moment to time its deadly spring, so did Glorfindel pounce upon the hapless fabric that lay upon the wet grass. His likeness to the canny hunter belied only by the pink tongue that slipped from between his lips, giving his fierce countenance a comedic appearance. Lindir laughed at the analogy, causing the Elda to raise his eyebrows in question before shrugging his shoulders and giving Lindir a quick smile.
Glorfindel's easy and somewhat childish behaviour was what endeared him to many, but in truth it was only a part of his persona. As a commander, he ruled his forces with an iron, albeit, fair hand. He was a superb tactician and strategist, versed in the art of diplomacy and statesmanship, a lord in his own right, his rank dating back to his previous life on Middle-earth where he was head of the House of the Golden Flower in Gondolin.
The golden flower, the simple Celandine that bloomed so profusely around the fabled city, which on this night under Ithil's watch, raised its head above the grasses where they lay. The golden flower and the rayed sun splayed upon a field of blue, the symbol of a house fallen but not forgotten. For on that fateful day of the Hidden City's demise, not one of that noble house survived. Neither grave nor tombstone marked the passing of those fair and brave. And millennia later, their Lord reborn cried tears of remembrance; in a forest in Imladris, in a field of golden flowers.
Lindir knew automatically what drew his lover to this hidden arbour, for though Glorfindel spoke not much about the centuries before his death, Lindir could feel it was ever on his mind. The armour that the ancient warrior wore bore the crest of Imladris but it was second to the rayed sun and golden flower. His robes of state reflected not the reds and browns of Elrond's Elven sanctuary but the blue and gold of the House that fell, failing to protect the Elven city that now lay lost and shattered under the waters of the sea. Glorfindel grieved for a time that was lost as Lindir grieved for the lost time of his youth. But no longer would they face that grief alone. Two hearts and minds had melded this night. Forever after, they would face the world together, sharing all: sadness and sorrow, happiness and bliss. until the end of the world, until the end of time.
Gazing at each other with new eyes, the ancient warrior and the gentle minstrel dressed in companionable silence, each lost in his own thought, thoughts of the other. Grasping hands, they started the walk back to the Last Homely House, knowing that for tonight and most other nights to come, they would sleep in each other's embrace, in each other's arms. They smiled as the soft jingle of bells once more floated on the air and the stars above winked their approval at the two lovers. The trees, too, whispered their acceptance as they passed underneath their leafy boughs and sang to them the songs of lovers of old. Ithil's light shone brightly as the two crossed over the grassy sward and through the formal yard and garden where colourful flowers nodded their heads in sleep. Hand in hand, they crossed the threshold of the Last Homely House, walking down the silent corridors until at last they reached the door to Lindir's room and stepped inside.
The minstrel tossed his wet cloak into a basket set aside for such a purpose then removed the rest of his clothing while Glorfindel did the same. The Elda turned back the covers of the bed and smiled as Lindir walked to the other side. Both slid under the silky sheets and reached for the other, their lips meeting in a sweet kiss. Glorfindel laughed as he ran his fingers through Lindir's hair and removed a tiny yellow flower that had caught in a tangle. Lindir took it from his hand then left the bed and walked to a small bookcase near the door. Reaching for one of the thickest tomes, he opened it to the middle and pressed the golden Celandine blossom between the pages, a lasting keepsake of the love they first shared in a clearing under the stars. Crawling back beneath the covers, Lindir snuggled into Glorfindel's waiting arms.
"Melin chen, Maethoren Valthen (5)," he whispered softly, gazing into the sky-blue eyes of his lover.
"Melin chen, pen-neth (6), the ancient warrior returned, moving his body against the minstrel until they were spooned tightly together. "Posto mae, Lindir. Aniron idho. Aur telitha lagor. (7)"
"Maer dú, Glorfindel. Posto mae. (8)"
Ithil's light shone through the window on the two peaceful faces, both lost in the dreamscape of reverie.

Notes:
1. Gur-e-guren, meleth-e-guilen. Pen vain. - Heart of my heart, love of my life. My beautiful one.
2. melethen - my love
3. pen-en vain - my lovely one
4. Maethoren Valthen, seronen vell - my Golden Warrior, my beloved.
5. melin chen, Maethoren Valthen. - I love you, my Golden Warrior.
6. melin chen, pen-neth - I love you, young one
7. Posto mae, Lindir. Aniron idho. Aur telitha lagor. - Rest well, Lindir. I need to sleep. Morning will come swiftly.
8. Maer dú, Glorfindel. Posto mae. - Good night, Glorfindel. Sleep well.
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- 15
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The Gift