Fic: Tale of the Ancient Mariner Voronwë/Glorfindel Rating: PG-NC 17 3/3
Title: Tale of the Ancient Mariner
Chapter: Three
Author: phyncke
Email: jhfink@sbcglobal.net
Rating: PG - NC17
Pairing: Voronwë/Glorfindel, Idril/Tuor
Warnings:Character death
Beta:khylea (all errors are mine)
For Request:Voronwë/Glorfindel in Ardor in August 2008
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they are the property of JRR Tolkien and his estate, and I have borrowed them for my own amusement and for yours I hope.
Summary: The tale of Voronwë the mariner and his odyssey as he charts his course through the First Age from Nevrast, through the building of Gondolin and beyond. He finds his one great love and is a part of the events of that age.
Written for: Jaiden
Chapter summary: Lovers, Gondolin's end and new beginnings
Chapter Three
Each bite that passed Voronwë lips was more delicious than the last and the wine went straight to his head since he had little experience with it. He was not a very sophisticated elf, not one used to Gondolin society.
"Mmm..."
"I am glad you are enjoying it."
Glorfindel lounged back in his seat as they sat at an intimately set arrangement for two, one end of the very long table which was used for formal occasions at the House of the Golden Flower. There were candles and a nice floral arrangement in golden hues placed to the side so they could see each other. The elf lord had been quite hungry and so ate his meal in short order. This was his usual way and afforded him the opportunity to watch his guest. That was the real treat. Once Voronwë finished, Glorfindel suggested moving to the adjacent salon with fireplace for their dessert of seasonal berries and sweet wine.
"I have not eaten this well in a long time, Glorfindel. I am used to dried salted meats and stale bread on board a ship. Nothing like this..." Voronwë murmured as they settled themselves on plush cushions in front of the hearth. He sank his toes into the rich, soft carpeting, having kicked off his shoes, in total relaxation.
"It is what you deserve after so long an odyssey. I am glad to provide you with some comforts."
"This is nice."
Glorfindel nodded and looked into the flames. His mind was on their kiss earlier, and he wondered at renewing his attentions. Voronwë stretched out his long legs, letting his feet warm by the fire.
"It is."
They fell to silence, sipping dessert wine made from berries chilled in the morning frost, then fermented by the king's own winery. This libation was a specialty of Turgon's house bestowed upon close friends only.
"Glorfindel, have you..."
The golden haired elf knew what his friend was trying to ask and no, in all the long years since Voronwë's departure to sail, he had not found romance with another, though they made no promise and there had been no intention expressed on either of their parts. They had not even kissed before but he had been waiting nonetheless.
"No, I have not found love with another, ever. If that is what you mean to ask."
"Nor have I though it is common enough in sailors, as you know."
Glorfindel laughed, "I have heard that, yes. You were never tempted to, Voronwë, to find pleasure with a comrade at sea?"
"No, I was holding out for love, I do believe. I did not just seek pleasure for a moment's time." The mariner frowned into his crystal goblet.
"I know this, Bronwë. Have no fear. I know you well." Glorfindel set his glass aside and rested on his side facing his friend. "It seems we two waited for the same thing."
The flames gave the younger elf's hair a dark, shiny appearance, so much so that the warrior longed to touch it. He indulged himself, reaching his left hand over to feel the silken tresses still bound in the long braid.
"I have much to learn of Gondolin again. I have been long away."
"I will help you get used to it here again. You must stay here now upon order from the King. No going away again much as you will miss the sea. I cannot say I am sorry for that, Voronwë."
Their eyes met in the amber light cast from the fireplace, blue as the sky meeting turbulent green of the sea.
"As long as this place lasts, if what Tuor says is true..."
"Then we will leave here together." Glorfindel reached for his hand, to reassure Voronwë as much as himself. Now that they had found each other again, he did not want to think of them being parted again.
/---/
Idril was very good at getting people to talk about themselves. She had what she termed "diplomatic skills". She applied these naturally as she dined with Tuor, son of Huor, on his first night in Gondolin and would have been the first to admit, she flirted shamelessly. Aunt Aredhel had always said the key to gaining a male's attention was to ask them about themselves. This advice she put to good use and she plied him with question upon question as they supped in the private salon which graced the royal residence.
She was impeccably dressed in a gold gown which set off her hair to good effect, picking up the different shades in it and making them shimmer very much like the frock itself. She had been sparing with the jewelry, wearing just small earrings and a thin necklace. She did not want the mortal to think she was vain or greedy for such things. On her feet she wore very soft sandals that had no ties so that she could slip them off under the table at dinner. She really did detest shoes in any form, but she wore them tonight as it was a special occasion.
"And that is a particular custom of the Atani? Your house specifically or all the branches?"
They were discussing hunting rituals and rites of passage and Tuor was enlightening Idril on customs for young men as they became adults. She found it very fascinating and listened him speak in deep tones, her food forgotten on the plate.
"Yes," Tuor added between ravenous mouthfuls. "It is quite exciting for the boy, to hunt and kill their first deer by themselves. They are sent out alone with knife and spear and have to bring it back fresh killed. Then it is skinned..."
"How thrilling!"
"You going to eat? Your food will get cold." The man gestured to her plate and she looked down.
"I will, I will now." Idril picked up her utensils, beginning to eat the first course of greens from the terraced farms in the mountains. They were stored in ice, preserved for the long winter months.
Tuor of the Atani was quite hungry but hated to dine alone. He got the sense that the king's daughter liked to eat too but was having trouble paying attention to more than one thing at once. Truth be told, he was a bit dazzled by her glittering presence and had to wrench his attention to his food. The stomach won out tonight as it had been a long time since he had eaten so well.
Each course was more elegant than the last, and the two diners ate their fill, relaxing more with each glass of wine consumed. A healthy blush emerged on Idril's face, and her eyes lit up with each amusing anecdote Tuor told. He was quite witty and funny, even though he had passed a sentence of doom on her city. Though that was Ulmo, really, not him. He was only speaking on behalf of the Vala.
The palace staff served them discreetly, functioning both as wait staff and as chaperones protective of Idril Celebrindal. This mortal was new to the city and though he had taken audience with the king, the commotion he had caused made him suspect. No one knew him well, not even Voronwë the mariner. Idril, of course, trusted him the moment she laid eyes on him. She had an intuition about such things.
/---/
It did not please Maeglin of the Mole to discover that Idril, his cousin was dining en suite with Tuor, son of Huor. That information put him into a fine rage. He had a bad feeling as regarded that situation. Who exactly was this Atani mortal piece of scum?
/---/
Voronwë had fallen asleep in front of the fire, while Glorfindel stayed awake next to him staring pensively at the light dancing on the wall. They stayed thusly for a while until the early morning hours and then the elder elf deemed it time for them to retire to bed. He would not part from his friend and carried him up the central stair, to his own room where they could sleep the rest of the night.
The dark haired elf awoke as he was set on the bed and murmured.
"Where are we...?"
"My room, where you belong."
"There will be talk, Glorfindel."
"If you think that has not started already, you do not know Maeglin. He is the center of all gossip and mischief in this city. I don't care, Voronwë. You are staying with me."
Once he lit the lantern, providing a very soft, small amount of illumination to the large bedchamber, Glorfindel kicked off his boots and padded to the closet to find something to wear to bed. He was sensible of his friend's feelings and did not want to shock him by sleeping naked as was his usual way. He found light draw string pants and got a pair for Voronwë too.
Shucking off his tunic, he said, "You should change for bed, Voronwë. Get comfortable. I have these for you." He tossed the clothing to the bed, then slipped out of his own heavier leggings.
Voronwë watched Glorfindel, while taking up the nightwear. His friend was beautiful and as he bent down to slide the dark pants on, the muscles in his back flexed, revealing just how toned he was. Evidently, he was staring, for Glorfindel was walking to the bed somewhat amused and pulling his goldspun hair out of its knot.
"Bronwë, get a move on there. You still asleep? Or shall I undress you. That would give me great pleasure."
"No, no...I have it." Voronwë started to unbutton his shirt awkwardly, blushing to be caught ogling.
"Let me." Glorfindel sat next to him and gently brushed the younger elf's hands aside, continuing where he left off with the metal ornate buttons of the shirt. "Must be that you are tired." He murmured. "Long day, big meal...all that wine."
"Must be."
"Hmm. Must be."
As he slid the fabric down over well muscled arms, Glorfindel let his hands caress the smooth skin, tanned from the sun, yet smooth, perfect, and warm. Voronwë shivered slightly, feeling the desire wash over him in waves. Being in close proximity to this elf all night had elevated him to a constant level of arousal and now with these touches, well it was almost more than he could withstand. The golden elf followed his hands with his mouth to good effect and soon Voronwë arched beneath him.
"Lie down, Bronwë." Glorfindel's eyes were half closed and he continued his sensual exploration of Voronwë's lithe, long body, moving his hands nearer and nearer to the center of his desire.
The mariner heard the soft plea in that whisper, acquiescing immediately. He felt hot and moved his hips as Glorfindel pulled down the waist band of his leggings to reveal his hips, thighs and then calves. The pants landed on the floor with no sound.
"Have you ever pleasured yourself, Voronwë? With your own hand?" The warrior lay on his side, letting an adventurous hand, slide palm-down over the hard flat plane of his companion's stomach.
"I have, of course, I have."
"Yes, long sea voyage. One would. And what did you think of it?" Glorfindel's fingers wrapped around the base of Voronwë's arousal, stroking experimentally. He had done this to himself often, but never to another. The gasping reaction was telling.
"Nothing."
"Nothing? No fantasy? No one in mind? No dream that you would like fulfilled?"
"None that I would care to admit."
"Come now, my friend. It is I, Glorfindel. You can tell me anything." He leaned close, whispering in his ear, letting his lips graze Voronwë's reddened cheekbone, as he increased the pace of his hand to flesh.
"Mmm..."
"That is not an answer though I do like the sound of that."
"It was you I dreamed of Glorfindel. Every time." Bronwë whispered almost desperately. "You I would picture as I found my pleasure..."
The younger elf was rewarded with a kiss, forcefully placed, opening his mouth so that their tongues could mate and tangle with longing. At no time did Glorfindel stop his sensual attack to bring ecstasy to his friend and maintained a rhythmic pace with his hand below. When they parted, he began a slow descent stopping at intervals to softly caress an attractive spot with his lips, whispering.
"You taste, hmm, of the open air and the sea."
Glorfindel spent some moments suckling a taut nipple before moving lower, ghosting his mouth over heated, sensitive skin. He flicked his tongue over Voronwë's belly button and then lower still, to the soft, black thatch of hair at the base of his hard length, burying his face there.
"Can't."
"You can and you will." The elven soldier settled himself between the prone elf's outstretched legs, still partially clothed himself, letting his partner feel the full pressure of his weight. Tonight was not for making love, it was for the beginning of finding pleasure with each other. They would explore what it meant to be lovers slowly. They had long years ahead of them and time to discover what each liked.
"Glorfindel, we...ahhh."
Voronwë's ability to speak ended as his lover began to lick the head of his swollen arousal. This was pleasure he had not even dreamt of those hopeless nights on the attempted voyage to Valinor when he had been so lonely that his image of the golden elf had been all that had kept him sane.
It was a musky salted flavor combined with a hotness that he found intoxicating. Glorfindel applied the flat of his tongue to the veined surface and then proceeded to swallow the heated column in the wetness of his mouth. He followed his innate intuition, not any experience he'd had. He often had imagined this for himself and so did what he might want done to his own body. He lay on his stomach with legs splayed out, working on Bronwë, his mouth rising up and down on the hard cock. He felt the connection between them growing, his own skin heating up more and more with each moan from the mariner.
Voronwë reached down to caress and stroke Glorfindel's soft hair, his body arching on the coverlet, eyes closed and impassioned words tumbling out. Most of what he said was nonsense but none of that mattered and he knew he was understood. It was as though his heart was a ship which had found safe harbor and thus the igniting passion between them became an expression of that peace.
While letting his mouth explore his partner's arousal, Glorfindel contained his own mounting desires. He wanted to bury himself in that willing body but the time was not now. Eventually they would consummate their love but not now. They had waited the years for this reunion and so he would savor each and every moan. Voronwë gripped the coverlet tightly and was held in place by two strong hands to his hips.
"Glorfindel, I, I..."
"Mmm..."
The hum created with that sound added a soft friction to the younger elf's pleasure tipping the balance in Glorfindel's favor. Seconds before Voronwë erupted into his mouth, he opened his throat and so could accommodate his lover as he climaxed. For his part, Bronwë called out lustily as he spent his seed into the awaiting mouth, collapsing afterwards on the bed. The lantern flickered nearby, maintaining the light in the room. Voronwë was tired and spent, lying exhausted while Glorfindel panted, his cheek resting on a warm thigh.
"That was..."
"Good, no?" Glorfindel smiled with his eyes closed, content for the moment.
Voronwë's purring sigh was his only answer. The elder elf moved and took the placid mariner in his arms.
"Sleep now. Sleep and dream of nothing."
"I always dream of you."
They held each other close, and drifted into gentle slumber.
/---/
Idril lay awake staring at the ceiling going over her time with Tuor many times in her mind.
Tuor of the Atani slept like the dead albeit with a smile on his face.
/---/
Turgon, king of Gondolin met with Ecthelion of the Fountain long into the night to gain as much information as he could on what had transpired earlier. A faithful ally and confidante, the lord of that house did his best to counter the actions of Maeglin the deceiver in the hall earlier that day.
Sometimes lovers, they quarreled that night and thus Ecthelion retired to his own home, thinking that the Noldor king needed to deliberate without his influence. He was summoned at the midnight hour by special messenger and spent the rest of that night in the king's arms.
/---/
Tuor son of Huor remained in Gondolin and in doing so became a loyal subject to the king of that illustrious city. He loved and was beloved of Idril Celebrindal and so married her, to later have one son, Eárendil. As an adviser to Turgon of the Noldor, Tuor tried to get the ruler to see the truth in Ulmo's warning. But one only sees what one wants to see and in Gondolin they would remain until the end descended upon them.
One night, not long after their son was conceived, Idril asked her husband to call together a few trusted allies. Those she knew would not spread word of what she asked or told them. She had a little scheme, an idea, for she knew when disaster struck it would be swift and terrible. It was in her mind to get people out of the city to safety in the event of an invasion. Her family was foremost in her mind, but if they could build an access road many more could be saved.
The elves gathered were some of the leaders of the city: Glorfindel, Ecthelion, Galdor and they had included Bronwë at Tuor's behest. A small elite group who could help them plan.
"I have foreboding dreams at night, of flame and destruction. I fear that our city will not stand the test of time and will be found by Morgoth eventually. We are vulnerable here and there is no plan for evacuation, should the worst happen. My father is resolved to do nothing but I cannot rest if we do not prepare."
Idril stood with her palms protectively over her rounded belly and Tuor was behind her with arms folded. He knew what she would say, and supported her fully in this as in all things. He wanted this message to come from his wife.
"I want to build an escape route out of the city and I ask you, those who were in charge of building Gondolin to help me do it. I want this done in secret and the entrance to be well hidden from view. We need a way out and into the mountains above so that should the worst happen, we can get to safety and out of harm's way."
The elves gathered sat in silence, thinking it over until Glorfindel spoke.
"You will not be telling King Turgon of this project?"
"Not yet, Lord Glorfindel. He will know of it when it is necessary but not right now." Idril smiled though it made her nervous to keep things from her father.
"How will we keep such a project secret?" Ecthelion wondered out loud.
"It all depends on where you have the entrance." Galdor suggested. "If it is on someone's property, then the excavation can be well hidden indeed. No one need be the wiser. It should not be in a public place."
"I assume we are talking about a tunnel under the city." Voronwë tried to follow their thoughts.
Tuor answered his friend, "Yes, Bronwë. That is the idea. We dig down and out into the mountains so that we can escape if the city should fall." And fall it shall...his errant mind finished that thought but he pushed it aside so they could work on the practicalities.
They worked long that night, hashing out the plan and it began to take shape. All agreed to hold this secret for Idril Celebrindal and implement the construction of a tunnel under the city should all fail and they need flee for their very lives.
/---/
"Voronwë, if the city is attacked, I don't want you to wait for me. I want you to go with Idril and leave through the tunnel. I will have to stay and fight, I want you to leave as you can. I will find you later. Is that understood?"
"I don't think I like that."
Voronwë answered and he could barely make out Glorfindel's serious expression as they faced each other in the dark, lying each on their own pillow, talking as they liked to do. Tonight's conversation took a somber turn as Idril's tunnel was finished and the entrance secured, hidden to any prying eyes.
"You might not like it, but this is what I want you to do. I want you to survive."
"It is no survival without you, Glorfindel."
"We will always find each other again, no matter what happens."
Glorfindel reached to caress his lover's handsome, lean face, tracing the elegant line of his bone structure as Voronwë closed his eyes. Years had passed as they lived together at the House of the Golden Flower and while he had gotten used to life inland, Glorfindel had his heart.
"No matter what happens."
/---/
"Bronwë!"
Voronwë could not move.
They had left behind the din, escaping through Idril's secret way and into the mountain passes overlooking Gondolin. Destruction and devastation had hit the city as Morgoth's vast forces attacked, creeping stealthily through the mountain passes during the Midsummer Festival. Ecthelion had been left behind, the king too, many good elves, now Glorfindel fell over the cliff, dragged by the balrog's whip.
"BRONWë!!!" Tuor's shout got louder this time as he came closer, running back down the mountain path. Still the mariner could not move.
"He is gone, we must go or else die here."
No matter what happens. He could hear those words in his mind and let his feet move. No tears now, time for that later.
"I am coming." He wanted to die too and follow where Glorfindel had gone. Tuor took his hand and pulled him up the mountain.
/---/
They decided to sail at sunset, given the flow of the tide and the light would last long enough for them to leave the harbor. They were not certain of their fate but knew that they needed to leave this place. Idril knew in her very soul that they would make it to the Undying Lands and that the Valar would permit her husband entrance. He had served their purposes and now he was aging. Idril just knew he must make it to Valinor and then his fate would be decided.
Voronwë checked every rigging, sail and supply onboard Eárramë for the last time. He had assisted Tuor in the design and construction of the vessel, knowing that it needed to be able to withstand any weather they might sail through and go a great distance. He hoped they would be blessed by the Valar on this voyage and find themselves along the straight road to the Blessed Realm. He knew from experience what could happen should this not be the case.
"All is ready!" He called down to the elves standing on the dock, then retreated to give the family their privacy.
Eárendil stood speaking softly to his parents, then embraced each in turn before they climbed the ladder. Idril did well not to cry until she was on the deck of the ship and imagined that her son could not see her so discomposed. It was not so but her husband allowed her this flight of fancy as they held hands.
Standing on the bow, looking to his future, Bronwë ordered the sail hoisted. They caught a good wind out of the mouth of Sirion and followed the coast line, veering due west into open sea. He well remembered his last attempt to make this journey and the folly of that venture but perhaps now Eru was on their side. Good weather, the tides and the will of the powers, all conspired so that they reached Tol Eressea some weeks later. When Tuor looked upon that fair isle some weeks later and then onto the emerald coast of Valinor he was a young man once again, with no hint of grey to his sandy tresses and no wrinkles to his aged skin. Yes, the Valar had blessed them.
After docking the ship at harbor, Voronwë worked with his crew to secure all the ropes tightly to the quai. He was a good sailor and this is what one did at the end of the voyage. He crouched, working on the last knot when a shadow crossed his line of vision.
"You are taking your sweet time with that, sailor. I have been watching you for the last hour tying this ship down." The exasperation was evident in the speaker's tone.
"A mariner does, what a mariner does." Bronwë stood to full height, folding his arms stubbornly. He looked into the sharply annoyed eyes of Glorfindel of Gondolin.
"Without a care for who might be waiting for you?!"
They began to walk up the path, hand in hand, arguing vigorously as they went.
"I did not know you were there, Glorfindel. How was I to know?"
"You did not even look, Voronwë. I did not see you so much as glance..."
Their voices carried to the Manwë's winds as the sea birds circled and called above.
/---/
It was a quiet night in this thousandth year of the Third Age and all was peaceful for the nightwatch on the harbour at the Grey Havens in the Gulf of Lune.
"Look at that."
"What?" The second watch stirred from his post.
"There is a ship coming in."
Both elves looked with the keen sight of their kind and could make out the silver sails and the trim, elegant design. It was not a bulky mortal ship nor was it one of their vessels but of a unique design not seen in these parts but evidently elven.
"Sound the alarm?"
"Nay but we must alert Lord Cirdan."
/---/
Voronwë docked his ship, Laurëa Melda , knowing full well that word had travelled through the port of their arrival. When the Valar had decided that Glorfindel would go back to Middle Earth to protect the line of Peredhil descendant from Tuor and Idril, and Eárendil their son, he had insisted on being the shepherd for his love and whomsoever would be going back with him. On this journey they were accompanied by the five wizards including, Olórin, who told them of great events unfolding in this part of the world.
He bade his passengers stay onboard while he jumped to the dock, awaiting a greeting party, as he was sure there would be. Soon enough he heard and saw elves on the pier approaching him at a good pace. As they drew closer, the leader called out,
"Who goes there?"
"Arrivals from the Blessed Realm brought by Voronwë the mariner. I could not send word before we tied up but I come bearing important travelers sent to aid your cause."
Cirdan stopped and looked into the sea green, somewhat startling eyes of the famed sailor and rubbed his beard, taking in what he said.
"This is very unusual."
"You could say that, Uncle." Bronwë laughed.
/---/
I am Voronwë, of Gondolin, captain of the Laurëa Melda, so named for the love that I leave behind on the shores of Arda. It is with heavy heart that I scribe this entry but I know that I will see my love again, at the end of his sojourn, when he returns to me having done his duty. Until that time, I will sail the seas in exploration and keep my heart company and trust that he will be well.
This is my story.
Finis
Aerlindë=sea chant or song of the sea
Voronwë=steadfast
Bronwë=Sindarin form of Voronwë
Nan-tathren=valley of willows
Laurëa Melda=Golden Beloved
Ondolindë: The Rock of the Music of the Water
Thank you for reading.
More Ardor in August stories can be found here: http://www.geocities.com/slashysanta/
Chapter: Three
Author: phyncke
Email: jhfink@sbcglobal.net
Rating: PG - NC17
Pairing: Voronwë/Glorfindel, Idril/Tuor
Warnings:Character death
Beta:khylea (all errors are mine)
For Request:Voronwë/Glorfindel in Ardor in August 2008
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they are the property of JRR Tolkien and his estate, and I have borrowed them for my own amusement and for yours I hope.
Summary: The tale of Voronwë the mariner and his odyssey as he charts his course through the First Age from Nevrast, through the building of Gondolin and beyond. He finds his one great love and is a part of the events of that age.
Written for: Jaiden
Chapter summary: Lovers, Gondolin's end and new beginnings
Chapter Three
Each bite that passed Voronwë lips was more delicious than the last and the wine went straight to his head since he had little experience with it. He was not a very sophisticated elf, not one used to Gondolin society.
"Mmm..."
"I am glad you are enjoying it."
Glorfindel lounged back in his seat as they sat at an intimately set arrangement for two, one end of the very long table which was used for formal occasions at the House of the Golden Flower. There were candles and a nice floral arrangement in golden hues placed to the side so they could see each other. The elf lord had been quite hungry and so ate his meal in short order. This was his usual way and afforded him the opportunity to watch his guest. That was the real treat. Once Voronwë finished, Glorfindel suggested moving to the adjacent salon with fireplace for their dessert of seasonal berries and sweet wine.
"I have not eaten this well in a long time, Glorfindel. I am used to dried salted meats and stale bread on board a ship. Nothing like this..." Voronwë murmured as they settled themselves on plush cushions in front of the hearth. He sank his toes into the rich, soft carpeting, having kicked off his shoes, in total relaxation.
"It is what you deserve after so long an odyssey. I am glad to provide you with some comforts."
"This is nice."
Glorfindel nodded and looked into the flames. His mind was on their kiss earlier, and he wondered at renewing his attentions. Voronwë stretched out his long legs, letting his feet warm by the fire.
"It is."
They fell to silence, sipping dessert wine made from berries chilled in the morning frost, then fermented by the king's own winery. This libation was a specialty of Turgon's house bestowed upon close friends only.
"Glorfindel, have you..."
The golden haired elf knew what his friend was trying to ask and no, in all the long years since Voronwë's departure to sail, he had not found romance with another, though they made no promise and there had been no intention expressed on either of their parts. They had not even kissed before but he had been waiting nonetheless.
"No, I have not found love with another, ever. If that is what you mean to ask."
"Nor have I though it is common enough in sailors, as you know."
Glorfindel laughed, "I have heard that, yes. You were never tempted to, Voronwë, to find pleasure with a comrade at sea?"
"No, I was holding out for love, I do believe. I did not just seek pleasure for a moment's time." The mariner frowned into his crystal goblet.
"I know this, Bronwë. Have no fear. I know you well." Glorfindel set his glass aside and rested on his side facing his friend. "It seems we two waited for the same thing."
The flames gave the younger elf's hair a dark, shiny appearance, so much so that the warrior longed to touch it. He indulged himself, reaching his left hand over to feel the silken tresses still bound in the long braid.
"I have much to learn of Gondolin again. I have been long away."
"I will help you get used to it here again. You must stay here now upon order from the King. No going away again much as you will miss the sea. I cannot say I am sorry for that, Voronwë."
Their eyes met in the amber light cast from the fireplace, blue as the sky meeting turbulent green of the sea.
"As long as this place lasts, if what Tuor says is true..."
"Then we will leave here together." Glorfindel reached for his hand, to reassure Voronwë as much as himself. Now that they had found each other again, he did not want to think of them being parted again.
/---/
Idril was very good at getting people to talk about themselves. She had what she termed "diplomatic skills". She applied these naturally as she dined with Tuor, son of Huor, on his first night in Gondolin and would have been the first to admit, she flirted shamelessly. Aunt Aredhel had always said the key to gaining a male's attention was to ask them about themselves. This advice she put to good use and she plied him with question upon question as they supped in the private salon which graced the royal residence.
She was impeccably dressed in a gold gown which set off her hair to good effect, picking up the different shades in it and making them shimmer very much like the frock itself. She had been sparing with the jewelry, wearing just small earrings and a thin necklace. She did not want the mortal to think she was vain or greedy for such things. On her feet she wore very soft sandals that had no ties so that she could slip them off under the table at dinner. She really did detest shoes in any form, but she wore them tonight as it was a special occasion.
"And that is a particular custom of the Atani? Your house specifically or all the branches?"
They were discussing hunting rituals and rites of passage and Tuor was enlightening Idril on customs for young men as they became adults. She found it very fascinating and listened him speak in deep tones, her food forgotten on the plate.
"Yes," Tuor added between ravenous mouthfuls. "It is quite exciting for the boy, to hunt and kill their first deer by themselves. They are sent out alone with knife and spear and have to bring it back fresh killed. Then it is skinned..."
"How thrilling!"
"You going to eat? Your food will get cold." The man gestured to her plate and she looked down.
"I will, I will now." Idril picked up her utensils, beginning to eat the first course of greens from the terraced farms in the mountains. They were stored in ice, preserved for the long winter months.
Tuor of the Atani was quite hungry but hated to dine alone. He got the sense that the king's daughter liked to eat too but was having trouble paying attention to more than one thing at once. Truth be told, he was a bit dazzled by her glittering presence and had to wrench his attention to his food. The stomach won out tonight as it had been a long time since he had eaten so well.
Each course was more elegant than the last, and the two diners ate their fill, relaxing more with each glass of wine consumed. A healthy blush emerged on Idril's face, and her eyes lit up with each amusing anecdote Tuor told. He was quite witty and funny, even though he had passed a sentence of doom on her city. Though that was Ulmo, really, not him. He was only speaking on behalf of the Vala.
The palace staff served them discreetly, functioning both as wait staff and as chaperones protective of Idril Celebrindal. This mortal was new to the city and though he had taken audience with the king, the commotion he had caused made him suspect. No one knew him well, not even Voronwë the mariner. Idril, of course, trusted him the moment she laid eyes on him. She had an intuition about such things.
/---/
It did not please Maeglin of the Mole to discover that Idril, his cousin was dining en suite with Tuor, son of Huor. That information put him into a fine rage. He had a bad feeling as regarded that situation. Who exactly was this Atani mortal piece of scum?
/---/
Voronwë had fallen asleep in front of the fire, while Glorfindel stayed awake next to him staring pensively at the light dancing on the wall. They stayed thusly for a while until the early morning hours and then the elder elf deemed it time for them to retire to bed. He would not part from his friend and carried him up the central stair, to his own room where they could sleep the rest of the night.
The dark haired elf awoke as he was set on the bed and murmured.
"Where are we...?"
"My room, where you belong."
"There will be talk, Glorfindel."
"If you think that has not started already, you do not know Maeglin. He is the center of all gossip and mischief in this city. I don't care, Voronwë. You are staying with me."
Once he lit the lantern, providing a very soft, small amount of illumination to the large bedchamber, Glorfindel kicked off his boots and padded to the closet to find something to wear to bed. He was sensible of his friend's feelings and did not want to shock him by sleeping naked as was his usual way. He found light draw string pants and got a pair for Voronwë too.
Shucking off his tunic, he said, "You should change for bed, Voronwë. Get comfortable. I have these for you." He tossed the clothing to the bed, then slipped out of his own heavier leggings.
Voronwë watched Glorfindel, while taking up the nightwear. His friend was beautiful and as he bent down to slide the dark pants on, the muscles in his back flexed, revealing just how toned he was. Evidently, he was staring, for Glorfindel was walking to the bed somewhat amused and pulling his goldspun hair out of its knot.
"Bronwë, get a move on there. You still asleep? Or shall I undress you. That would give me great pleasure."
"No, no...I have it." Voronwë started to unbutton his shirt awkwardly, blushing to be caught ogling.
"Let me." Glorfindel sat next to him and gently brushed the younger elf's hands aside, continuing where he left off with the metal ornate buttons of the shirt. "Must be that you are tired." He murmured. "Long day, big meal...all that wine."
"Must be."
"Hmm. Must be."
As he slid the fabric down over well muscled arms, Glorfindel let his hands caress the smooth skin, tanned from the sun, yet smooth, perfect, and warm. Voronwë shivered slightly, feeling the desire wash over him in waves. Being in close proximity to this elf all night had elevated him to a constant level of arousal and now with these touches, well it was almost more than he could withstand. The golden elf followed his hands with his mouth to good effect and soon Voronwë arched beneath him.
"Lie down, Bronwë." Glorfindel's eyes were half closed and he continued his sensual exploration of Voronwë's lithe, long body, moving his hands nearer and nearer to the center of his desire.
The mariner heard the soft plea in that whisper, acquiescing immediately. He felt hot and moved his hips as Glorfindel pulled down the waist band of his leggings to reveal his hips, thighs and then calves. The pants landed on the floor with no sound.
"Have you ever pleasured yourself, Voronwë? With your own hand?" The warrior lay on his side, letting an adventurous hand, slide palm-down over the hard flat plane of his companion's stomach.
"I have, of course, I have."
"Yes, long sea voyage. One would. And what did you think of it?" Glorfindel's fingers wrapped around the base of Voronwë's arousal, stroking experimentally. He had done this to himself often, but never to another. The gasping reaction was telling.
"Nothing."
"Nothing? No fantasy? No one in mind? No dream that you would like fulfilled?"
"None that I would care to admit."
"Come now, my friend. It is I, Glorfindel. You can tell me anything." He leaned close, whispering in his ear, letting his lips graze Voronwë's reddened cheekbone, as he increased the pace of his hand to flesh.
"Mmm..."
"That is not an answer though I do like the sound of that."
"It was you I dreamed of Glorfindel. Every time." Bronwë whispered almost desperately. "You I would picture as I found my pleasure..."
The younger elf was rewarded with a kiss, forcefully placed, opening his mouth so that their tongues could mate and tangle with longing. At no time did Glorfindel stop his sensual attack to bring ecstasy to his friend and maintained a rhythmic pace with his hand below. When they parted, he began a slow descent stopping at intervals to softly caress an attractive spot with his lips, whispering.
"You taste, hmm, of the open air and the sea."
Glorfindel spent some moments suckling a taut nipple before moving lower, ghosting his mouth over heated, sensitive skin. He flicked his tongue over Voronwë's belly button and then lower still, to the soft, black thatch of hair at the base of his hard length, burying his face there.
"Can't."
"You can and you will." The elven soldier settled himself between the prone elf's outstretched legs, still partially clothed himself, letting his partner feel the full pressure of his weight. Tonight was not for making love, it was for the beginning of finding pleasure with each other. They would explore what it meant to be lovers slowly. They had long years ahead of them and time to discover what each liked.
"Glorfindel, we...ahhh."
Voronwë's ability to speak ended as his lover began to lick the head of his swollen arousal. This was pleasure he had not even dreamt of those hopeless nights on the attempted voyage to Valinor when he had been so lonely that his image of the golden elf had been all that had kept him sane.
It was a musky salted flavor combined with a hotness that he found intoxicating. Glorfindel applied the flat of his tongue to the veined surface and then proceeded to swallow the heated column in the wetness of his mouth. He followed his innate intuition, not any experience he'd had. He often had imagined this for himself and so did what he might want done to his own body. He lay on his stomach with legs splayed out, working on Bronwë, his mouth rising up and down on the hard cock. He felt the connection between them growing, his own skin heating up more and more with each moan from the mariner.
Voronwë reached down to caress and stroke Glorfindel's soft hair, his body arching on the coverlet, eyes closed and impassioned words tumbling out. Most of what he said was nonsense but none of that mattered and he knew he was understood. It was as though his heart was a ship which had found safe harbor and thus the igniting passion between them became an expression of that peace.
While letting his mouth explore his partner's arousal, Glorfindel contained his own mounting desires. He wanted to bury himself in that willing body but the time was not now. Eventually they would consummate their love but not now. They had waited the years for this reunion and so he would savor each and every moan. Voronwë gripped the coverlet tightly and was held in place by two strong hands to his hips.
"Glorfindel, I, I..."
"Mmm..."
The hum created with that sound added a soft friction to the younger elf's pleasure tipping the balance in Glorfindel's favor. Seconds before Voronwë erupted into his mouth, he opened his throat and so could accommodate his lover as he climaxed. For his part, Bronwë called out lustily as he spent his seed into the awaiting mouth, collapsing afterwards on the bed. The lantern flickered nearby, maintaining the light in the room. Voronwë was tired and spent, lying exhausted while Glorfindel panted, his cheek resting on a warm thigh.
"That was..."
"Good, no?" Glorfindel smiled with his eyes closed, content for the moment.
Voronwë's purring sigh was his only answer. The elder elf moved and took the placid mariner in his arms.
"Sleep now. Sleep and dream of nothing."
"I always dream of you."
They held each other close, and drifted into gentle slumber.
/---/
Idril lay awake staring at the ceiling going over her time with Tuor many times in her mind.
Tuor of the Atani slept like the dead albeit with a smile on his face.
/---/
Turgon, king of Gondolin met with Ecthelion of the Fountain long into the night to gain as much information as he could on what had transpired earlier. A faithful ally and confidante, the lord of that house did his best to counter the actions of Maeglin the deceiver in the hall earlier that day.
Sometimes lovers, they quarreled that night and thus Ecthelion retired to his own home, thinking that the Noldor king needed to deliberate without his influence. He was summoned at the midnight hour by special messenger and spent the rest of that night in the king's arms.
/---/
Tuor son of Huor remained in Gondolin and in doing so became a loyal subject to the king of that illustrious city. He loved and was beloved of Idril Celebrindal and so married her, to later have one son, Eárendil. As an adviser to Turgon of the Noldor, Tuor tried to get the ruler to see the truth in Ulmo's warning. But one only sees what one wants to see and in Gondolin they would remain until the end descended upon them.
One night, not long after their son was conceived, Idril asked her husband to call together a few trusted allies. Those she knew would not spread word of what she asked or told them. She had a little scheme, an idea, for she knew when disaster struck it would be swift and terrible. It was in her mind to get people out of the city to safety in the event of an invasion. Her family was foremost in her mind, but if they could build an access road many more could be saved.
The elves gathered were some of the leaders of the city: Glorfindel, Ecthelion, Galdor and they had included Bronwë at Tuor's behest. A small elite group who could help them plan.
"I have foreboding dreams at night, of flame and destruction. I fear that our city will not stand the test of time and will be found by Morgoth eventually. We are vulnerable here and there is no plan for evacuation, should the worst happen. My father is resolved to do nothing but I cannot rest if we do not prepare."
Idril stood with her palms protectively over her rounded belly and Tuor was behind her with arms folded. He knew what she would say, and supported her fully in this as in all things. He wanted this message to come from his wife.
"I want to build an escape route out of the city and I ask you, those who were in charge of building Gondolin to help me do it. I want this done in secret and the entrance to be well hidden from view. We need a way out and into the mountains above so that should the worst happen, we can get to safety and out of harm's way."
The elves gathered sat in silence, thinking it over until Glorfindel spoke.
"You will not be telling King Turgon of this project?"
"Not yet, Lord Glorfindel. He will know of it when it is necessary but not right now." Idril smiled though it made her nervous to keep things from her father.
"How will we keep such a project secret?" Ecthelion wondered out loud.
"It all depends on where you have the entrance." Galdor suggested. "If it is on someone's property, then the excavation can be well hidden indeed. No one need be the wiser. It should not be in a public place."
"I assume we are talking about a tunnel under the city." Voronwë tried to follow their thoughts.
Tuor answered his friend, "Yes, Bronwë. That is the idea. We dig down and out into the mountains so that we can escape if the city should fall." And fall it shall...his errant mind finished that thought but he pushed it aside so they could work on the practicalities.
They worked long that night, hashing out the plan and it began to take shape. All agreed to hold this secret for Idril Celebrindal and implement the construction of a tunnel under the city should all fail and they need flee for their very lives.
/---/
"Voronwë, if the city is attacked, I don't want you to wait for me. I want you to go with Idril and leave through the tunnel. I will have to stay and fight, I want you to leave as you can. I will find you later. Is that understood?"
"I don't think I like that."
Voronwë answered and he could barely make out Glorfindel's serious expression as they faced each other in the dark, lying each on their own pillow, talking as they liked to do. Tonight's conversation took a somber turn as Idril's tunnel was finished and the entrance secured, hidden to any prying eyes.
"You might not like it, but this is what I want you to do. I want you to survive."
"It is no survival without you, Glorfindel."
"We will always find each other again, no matter what happens."
Glorfindel reached to caress his lover's handsome, lean face, tracing the elegant line of his bone structure as Voronwë closed his eyes. Years had passed as they lived together at the House of the Golden Flower and while he had gotten used to life inland, Glorfindel had his heart.
"No matter what happens."
/---/
"Bronwë!"
Voronwë could not move.
They had left behind the din, escaping through Idril's secret way and into the mountain passes overlooking Gondolin. Destruction and devastation had hit the city as Morgoth's vast forces attacked, creeping stealthily through the mountain passes during the Midsummer Festival. Ecthelion had been left behind, the king too, many good elves, now Glorfindel fell over the cliff, dragged by the balrog's whip.
"BRONWë!!!" Tuor's shout got louder this time as he came closer, running back down the mountain path. Still the mariner could not move.
"He is gone, we must go or else die here."
No matter what happens. He could hear those words in his mind and let his feet move. No tears now, time for that later.
"I am coming." He wanted to die too and follow where Glorfindel had gone. Tuor took his hand and pulled him up the mountain.
/---/
They decided to sail at sunset, given the flow of the tide and the light would last long enough for them to leave the harbor. They were not certain of their fate but knew that they needed to leave this place. Idril knew in her very soul that they would make it to the Undying Lands and that the Valar would permit her husband entrance. He had served their purposes and now he was aging. Idril just knew he must make it to Valinor and then his fate would be decided.
Voronwë checked every rigging, sail and supply onboard Eárramë for the last time. He had assisted Tuor in the design and construction of the vessel, knowing that it needed to be able to withstand any weather they might sail through and go a great distance. He hoped they would be blessed by the Valar on this voyage and find themselves along the straight road to the Blessed Realm. He knew from experience what could happen should this not be the case.
"All is ready!" He called down to the elves standing on the dock, then retreated to give the family their privacy.
Eárendil stood speaking softly to his parents, then embraced each in turn before they climbed the ladder. Idril did well not to cry until she was on the deck of the ship and imagined that her son could not see her so discomposed. It was not so but her husband allowed her this flight of fancy as they held hands.
Standing on the bow, looking to his future, Bronwë ordered the sail hoisted. They caught a good wind out of the mouth of Sirion and followed the coast line, veering due west into open sea. He well remembered his last attempt to make this journey and the folly of that venture but perhaps now Eru was on their side. Good weather, the tides and the will of the powers, all conspired so that they reached Tol Eressea some weeks later. When Tuor looked upon that fair isle some weeks later and then onto the emerald coast of Valinor he was a young man once again, with no hint of grey to his sandy tresses and no wrinkles to his aged skin. Yes, the Valar had blessed them.
After docking the ship at harbor, Voronwë worked with his crew to secure all the ropes tightly to the quai. He was a good sailor and this is what one did at the end of the voyage. He crouched, working on the last knot when a shadow crossed his line of vision.
"You are taking your sweet time with that, sailor. I have been watching you for the last hour tying this ship down." The exasperation was evident in the speaker's tone.
"A mariner does, what a mariner does." Bronwë stood to full height, folding his arms stubbornly. He looked into the sharply annoyed eyes of Glorfindel of Gondolin.
"Without a care for who might be waiting for you?!"
They began to walk up the path, hand in hand, arguing vigorously as they went.
"I did not know you were there, Glorfindel. How was I to know?"
"You did not even look, Voronwë. I did not see you so much as glance..."
Their voices carried to the Manwë's winds as the sea birds circled and called above.
/---/
It was a quiet night in this thousandth year of the Third Age and all was peaceful for the nightwatch on the harbour at the Grey Havens in the Gulf of Lune.
"Look at that."
"What?" The second watch stirred from his post.
"There is a ship coming in."
Both elves looked with the keen sight of their kind and could make out the silver sails and the trim, elegant design. It was not a bulky mortal ship nor was it one of their vessels but of a unique design not seen in these parts but evidently elven.
"Sound the alarm?"
"Nay but we must alert Lord Cirdan."
/---/
Voronwë docked his ship, Laurëa Melda , knowing full well that word had travelled through the port of their arrival. When the Valar had decided that Glorfindel would go back to Middle Earth to protect the line of Peredhil descendant from Tuor and Idril, and Eárendil their son, he had insisted on being the shepherd for his love and whomsoever would be going back with him. On this journey they were accompanied by the five wizards including, Olórin, who told them of great events unfolding in this part of the world.
He bade his passengers stay onboard while he jumped to the dock, awaiting a greeting party, as he was sure there would be. Soon enough he heard and saw elves on the pier approaching him at a good pace. As they drew closer, the leader called out,
"Who goes there?"
"Arrivals from the Blessed Realm brought by Voronwë the mariner. I could not send word before we tied up but I come bearing important travelers sent to aid your cause."
Cirdan stopped and looked into the sea green, somewhat startling eyes of the famed sailor and rubbed his beard, taking in what he said.
"This is very unusual."
"You could say that, Uncle." Bronwë laughed.
/---/
I am Voronwë, of Gondolin, captain of the Laurëa Melda, so named for the love that I leave behind on the shores of Arda. It is with heavy heart that I scribe this entry but I know that I will see my love again, at the end of his sojourn, when he returns to me having done his duty. Until that time, I will sail the seas in exploration and keep my heart company and trust that he will be well.
This is my story.
Finis
Aerlindë=sea chant or song of the sea
Voronwë=steadfast
Bronwë=Sindarin form of Voronwë
Nan-tathren=valley of willows
Laurëa Melda=Golden Beloved
Ondolindë: The Rock of the Music of the Water
Thank you for reading.
More Ardor in August stories can be found here: http://www.geocities.com/slashysanta/