New Memories

Author's Note: In HoME, Volume 12: �The Peoples of Middle-earth�, Chapter XII: �Last Writings� is a section on Glorfindel. It states that these were the last words J.R.R. Tolkien had written on the subject of Glorfindel and it was in the last year of his life, in November 1972. There are two versions on how Glorfindel came to Middle-earth after being resurrected, and Tolkien does state that Glorfindel was indeed brought back to life by Manw�. Here are some points from Version One of Glorfindel�s history that I felt were pertinent to this story. These start on P. 377 of my version of HoME.

- He would be a suitable companion for Ol�rin.

- This would explain the air of special power and sanctity that surrounds him � note how the Witch-king flies from him, although all others could not induce their horses to face him (Return of the King, p. 331).

- He is a powerful figure and almost �angelic� because he has returned to the primitive innocence of the First-born and lived among those Elves who never rebelled and was in the company of the Maiar for ages.

In Version Two of the Glorfindel story, these are the points I found to be pertinent:

- While Glorfindel might have come with Ol�rin, it is more likely that he was sent in the crisis of the Second Age when Sauron invaded Eriador.

- It was to assist Elrond, and he played a notable and heroic part in the war.

- His spiritual power had been enhanced by his self-sacrifice.

For this story, I have surmised that Glorfindel did come to Middle-earth with Ol�rin in the Year 1000 of the Second Age, and did possess the innocence of the First-born Elves. He was taken to Imladris where he lived and served Elrond, and went with him to fight Sauron in the Battle of the Last Alliance, where my tale begins.

Upon the battle plain of Dagorlad lay many bodies: of Men and Dwarves, beasts and birds, and not the least, of Orcs and Elves. At dawn the day after the battle, a Captain under Glorfindel�s command wandered among the dead. He was charged with the task of counting those killed of the Elves. He drifted among the corpses, the stench assailing his nostrils like reeking fingers reaching up to strangle him in their noisome clutches. When he noticed a fluttery movement and saw a pale hand held against the sky, he rushed to the side of the Elf who had raised it as if it were a melancholy banner of hope.

This wounded Elf was young. He was slight of stature, and looked to be gravely wounded. The captain knelt down beside this victim of battle and stared around him at the surrounding debris. He lifted the wounded Elf�s head and the young one coughed up blood. He tried to speak but his voice was barely a rasp. �What is your name, soldier?� asked Treneric�r, after giving the stricken Elf a drink of water from his skin.

�My name? I do not remember it,� said the strange Elf.

�You do not know your own name? Whence came you into this battle?� asked Treneric�r.

The wounded Elf blinked. �I know not,� he said. Then he laid his head down and closed his eyes.

Treneric�r got to his feet and made his way to his commanding officer�s tent to tell his lord, and Elrond�s second-in-command, of his discovery. �What is it, Treneric�r?� Glorfindel asked curtly. He was sitting behind a desk that was covered with stacks of paper. He looked exasperated, his large hand clutching a fistful of tumbling hair the color of the golden Elanor flower.

�I have found a survivor among the dead on the battlefield,� stated Treneric�r.

�Have you? Why should that concern me?� asked Glorfindel, clearly annoyed by the assumption that he would be interested in knowing this fact when he had so much paperwork to deliver to Lord Elrond, except that none of it was complete. In the aftermath of the heavy losses among the Elves of the Last Alliance, the Lord of Imladris had assigned certain responsibilities to Glorfindel that normally would have gone to another officer. Therefore he found himself having to deal with lists: of the dead, the wounded, of rations, weapons, and armor. A trustworthy officer needed to be in charge of determining that there were enough bandages, shovels, swords, pieces of equipment and many other things for the soldiers to remain in good battle condition. He seemed afloat in lists. He did not know how to begin. The task of taking the wounded to the hospital tent was not his responsibility. He sighed. The golden warrior was not usually this abrupt with his friends, but his mood was not good, having been sitting in this stuffy tent all day without stretching his limbs or smelling the outside air. �Who is he? Someone of importance?�

�I know not, sir. And�� Treneric�r hesitated. �He knows not. He cannot remember who he is.�

�What do you mean, he doesn�t know who he is?� cried Glorfindel. He stood up abruptly, causing some of the piled-up papers to fall to the ground. Glorfindel looked at the fallen pages and felt suddenly glad to be able to leave this oppressive tent with all its hated paperwork, and attend to a task, even if it was beneath his rank. He grabbed his helm from a nearby stand and, holding it under his arm, rounded the corner of the table and faced Treneric�r. �Right. Show me where he is.� Glorfindel gripped his helm and thrust it toward Treneric�r in a gesture of irritation. �Why did you leave him alone? He may be someone of importance, I suppose, and if you�ve left him to die, he may suffer alone and helpless. A sad way to go.� A cloud of dark memory shaded his face briefly.

�I thought it best not to move him right away,� said Treneric�r. �I do not think he is in danger of dying immediately.�

The two officers marched through the debris of the battle, winding their way around the piles of corpses until they came to the body of the fallen soldier. Glorfindel looked up at the carrion birds circling the area like bits of black soot in the dull sky.

�I thought you might find the rubble surrounding him interesting,� said Treneric�r.

�Why is that?� asked Glorfindel, standing and staring down at the prone body of the young Elf. The wounded soldier�s breathing was shallow, his chest rising and falling in slight movements. Glorfindel noticed the gleam of a well-made, new-looking sword lying beside the fallen Elf. Beneath the sword was the severed hand and forearm of a large Orc. Upon the Orc�s gauntlet was a sign that marked the bearer as a general in Sauron�s army. Treneric�r poked with his own sword at a pile of Orcs� bodies and uncovered a large one with most of one arm missing, and a gaping throat wound.

�Ah. It looks like our unknown warrior has killed an important cog in Sauron�s wheel,� said Glorfindel, �and himself has almost died in the process. Come, let us get him out of here.�

Glorfindel knelt beside the unconscious Elf. He looked him over for injuries, noting bruises and scrapes upon the delicate face. Dried blood matted his hair at one temple, and there was a dark patch of drying blood on the right side of his armor, below his ribs. Glorfindel pulled down the collar of the soldier�s tunic and placed his fingers upon the pulse in his neck. The injured Elf�s eyes fluttered open at the touch and he stared blankly at Glorfindel.

�What is your name?� asked the commanding officer in a kind voice.

The young Elf stammered, �M-my name, my L-lord? I � I know not.� His expression turned to one of distress, his blue eyes widening, his lips pulled back in a grimace. He was aware that two people had now asked him the same question and his memory had not returned, even though he was now fully awake.

Glorfindel offered him a drink of water from his pouch, and the young Elf accepted it eagerly, raising his hand to clutch at the waterskin, and gulping the water as fast as he could. It seemed to revive him a little. His eyes cleared. �M-my sword,� he whispered, flailing with his arm to the side that was not injured.

�Your sword is here,� said Glorfindel. �At least I think it must be yours.� He lifted up the fine weapon to show the young warrior. It had intricate lettering upon the handle and Glorfindel peered at this with interest. �Your sword is of Telerin make by the carvings on the hilt,� he said. �It seems that it clove the arm of a general in Sauron�s army. You have done a brave deed with your worthy sword.�

�T-Telerin?� asked the young Elf, his expression one of curiosity, a questioning gaze breaking the blank stare.

�Yes. Or Lemberin, in their own language,� said Glorfindel.

�Lemberin. Lemberin,� said the Elf, and a glint of recognition glowed in his eyes.

�You must be Telerin if you know that word. One of C�rdan�s people, perhaps,� said Glorfindel. �We can find out later. Come now. I am going to try to lift you and carry you back to my tent where I will have someone come to look after you. Tell me if anything hurts when I do this,� and the powerful warrior put his hands beneath the young Elf�s body and lifted him. Surprised by his lightness, and impressed that the injured soldier did not whimper or cry out in pain, Glorfindel carried him back to his tent, while Treneric�r picked up the Telerin sword and the gauntlet from the dead Orc, shaking free the severed arm, which fell unheeded to the ground.

Glorfindel set the injured Elf carefully down on his pallet. He pulled off the soldier�s armor gingerly, and then removed his boots. He undid his jerkin, peeling the suede fabric away from the bloody patch on his side. He gently pulled the tunic up to the young Elf�s chest so that he could check the wound. It was a deep gash to his right side, but luckily it had missed his vital organs. �This needs to be properly dressed,� Glorfindel told Treneric�r. �Can you go and see if you can find Lord Elrond? I want him to have a look at this Elf personally.�

Treneric�r nodded and started to leave, but he stopped at the tent�s opening and asked, �Should this soldier not be moved to the hospital tent, my lord Glorfindel?�

He looked up at his captain with his innocent blue gaze and said, �No, Treneric�r. I want to look after him myself.�

Elrond hastened to Glorfindel�s tent when Treneric�r explained what he had found and expressed his commanding officer�s concerns. The Elf-lord of Imladris was glad to be able to get away from his own affairs, so that he would not be dwelling on his sorrow in the aftermath of Gil-galad�s tragic death. He examined the injured soldier�s wounds and applied a salve and temporary dressing to the deep gash.

�Do you recognize him?� Glorfindel asked, sitting by the strange Elf�s side while Elrond tended to him, watching the healer�s work with interest.

�No,� said Elrond. �I agree with you that it looks as if he might be Telerin, and if this sword indeed belongs to him, then that would reinforce our theory. This young soldier has sustained several blows to his head.� Elrond indicated the wound on the Elf�s temple, and a bump on the top of his head. �Any one of these may have caused his memory loss. I am sure that his memory will come back in time, once he has healed.�

�Now the wound on his side is rather worrisome. He has sustained a deep sword-cut. It needs to be bathed, and the dressing should be changed every four hours to keep it clean. Are you sure you do not want this soldier moved into the hospital tent where trained staff can look after him?�

�No,� said Glorfindel in a firm voice. �I am going to look after him myself.� He hesitated, wanting to justify his answer but not sure of his reasons himself. �He� intrigues me.�

Elrond looked at the powerful military leader with surprise. �Very well, Glorfindel,� he said. �I will have a medical attendant sent to you right away to bathe him.�

Walking back to his quarters, he reflected upon Glorfindel, this indomitable warrior who had been of great assistance to himself and Gil-galad in this battle. Indeed, since the golden-haired Elda had first come to Middle-earth with Ol�rin, he had been in Elrond�s service. He had been a chieftain of one of the Houses of Gondolin in the First Age. He was famous for having slain a Balrog while defending the King�s daughter Idril, her husband Tuor and their son E�rendil, Elrond�s father, in their flight from the sack of the city. He had been resurrected by Manw� after only a short stay in the Halls of Mandos, and had stayed in the Blessed Realm for a time, becoming great friends with Ol�rin of the Maiar, and learning some Maiarin ways and magic.

He had been sent to Middle-earth with Ol�rin in the Year 1000 of the Second Age, so that he could assist Gil-galad and Elrond in the war against the new Dark Shadow when the time came. Sauron was not then grown to his full power, but there was rising suspicion of him and Glorfindel went to Imladris with Ol�rin and began to train an army of soldiers who could do battle with the evil Maia when it was time for war. Elrond had known Glorfindel for many years, and knew that the powerful Elda possessed an innocence of a primitive kind as he was strong. He was reminiscent of one of the firstborn Elves of Cuivi�nen.

While Glorfindel waited for the medical attendant to come, he sat by the wounded Elf�s side, talking to him. The young Elf remained unconscious. Glorfindel stroked his pale brow and spoke soothing words of encouragement to him. The great warrior took up a sponge and dipped it into the basin, and wrung out most of the water. He held it to the side of the unconscious Elf�s face and cleaned away the dirt with great care. He wrung it out again and pressed it lightly to the wound at the side of the blond Elf�s head, trying to remove some of the dried blood that was matted in his long tresses. Glorfindel noticed how pale this Elf�s hair was in contrast to his own locks of dark gold.

�He has the paleness of the Teleri,� thought Glorfindel as he sponged the wounded Elf�s body. Noticing the slender form and smooth skin as he bathed the unconscious soldier from head to foot, Glorfindel thought, �He is pretty. His face is almost like that of a child�s doll sculpted from the finest clay of Tirion.�

When he was clean, Glorfindel dressed the soldier in a loose-fitting shirt and leggings of his own, and hummed an old lullaby that he remembered hearing from Ol�rin many years before. For three days and nights afterward, Glorfindel never slept, but stayed by the side of the injured soldier until the young Elf�s wounds looked to be healing well, and he eventually regained consciousness. When his eyes fluttered open, his gaze came to rest upon Glorfindel�s concerned countenance, and he smiled.

�Are you--?� he began to ask, then broke into spasmodic coughing. Glorfindel lifted the Elf�s upper body so that he could expel the phlegm from his throat.

�Am I what?� asked Glorfindel while he gently rubbed the smaller Elf�s back, a steadying hand pressed to his chest.

�My savior hero,� said the younger Elf, his innocent blue eyes staring into Glorfindel�s own. Glorfindel gazed upon the radiance of the young soldier�s smile and it warmed his heart. For some reason, the simple words spoken by this wounded soldier meant more to him than the many accolades that had been afforded him over the long years.

He and the young Elf talked at length, spending an hour or so in each others� company. Glorfindel told the soldier all about himself, because the younger Elf had nothing he could say about his own life. Glorfindel gave him a brief recounting of the battle of Dagorlad, and told him all about Sauron and the Rings of Power, even about his old home of Gondolin, that beautiful city fashioned after Tirion of Valinor.

The young soldier paid rapt attention to Glorfindel�s stories, watching him with wide blue eyes that followed every movement of his lips and every change in his expression. Glorfindel noticed this and his heart fluttered with happiness. �I wish that you could tell me something of yourself,� he lamented. �When you are well and fully healed, I shall take you to Lindon to see C�rdan. Now that our king, Gil-galad, has been sadly slain in battle, he will not be able to identify you, if indeed, he knew you. But C�rdan may know you well, if you are indeed one of the Teleri. We shall find out if the Lord of the Havens knows who you are and from what house you came, if your memory has not returned by then. For now, I would like you to have a name so that I may address you when I am speaking to you. Would you mind if I called you �Lemberas�?

A light of recognition flickered in the young Elf�s eyes. �Lemberas?� he repeated. �Lemberas. That sounds � that sounds � almost as if I have heard it before � like a faint echo in my mind.�

�Well, I did make it up from the word �Lemberin�, which could be the name of your language,� said Glorfindel. �Perhaps that is why.�

Over the next few nights, Lemberas began to have strange dreams whenever he slept. During these nightmares he became agitated and thrashed about with his arms and legs upon the pallet that Glorfindel had requested be brought into his tent for the soldier. Glorfindel would get up and rush to his side, sit beside him and try to quiet the tossing and turning Elf. Lemberas would only calm down when Glorfindel was beside him. Once, when Glorfindel was fast asleep and had not noticed Lemberas being disturbed by a nightmare, the young Elf awoke on his own and after sitting up in terror, his body drenched in sweat, he rose and crept over to Glorfindel�s pallet. He got into bed beside the big warrior and fell asleep, happily pressed against Glorfindel�s back.

After a few weeks, Glorfindel and Lemberas were thought to be lovers among the soldiers who remained behind to guard Barad-dur. Coupling among men was not a rare occurrence in the army, especially during times when women were scarce or not seen at all. However, Glorfindel and Lemberas were not involved with each other in a romantic way. They were both innocents. Lemberas clung to Glorfindel as his savior, and out of need driven by fear. His fear was exacerbated by the fact that almost everything was unknown to him. Glorfindel�s interest in Lemberas was born out of his own experience with resurrection. He saw himself mirrored in the innocence of Lemberas� condition � an adult male who was in a state of total oblivion. In his own case it was because of rebirth, and in Lemberas� situation it was because of memory loss. However their current friendship had come about, they remained constant companions, and Lemberas slept with Glorfindel every night, unaware that they were being talked about by their fellow soldiers.

One day when Lemberas was polishing his sword in front of Glorfindel�s tent, Glorfindel noticed how well the young Elf was looking. There was color in his face and a vigor about his movements. His demeanor was joyful, even exuberant, and he sang as he worked, a song that he had learned from the other soldiers. It was a bit ribald, and neither he nor Glorfindel knew what it meant.

�Hail, Lemberas,� Glorfindel, called to him.

Lemberas broke off singing, looked up and gave his friend a wide grin. �Glorfindel! I have not seen you all morning!�

�I have been with Lord Elrond,� Glorfindel said in a quieter tone, moving closer and sitting down beside the smaller Elf. �He tells me that our contingent will be shipping out soon, and we will be moving back to Imladris.�

�Oh,� said Lemberas in a small voice, looking crestfallen.

�Don�t worry, Lemberas,� said Glorfindel, seeing his companion�s sad look. He laughed and wrapped a muscled arm around the young Elf�s shoulders. �Did I not tell you that when we were finished here, we would be going home?�

�Yes, but only you shall go home,� said Lemberas. �I know not where I belong.�

Glorfindel remained silent for a moment. He had almost said, �You belong with me,� but he stopped himself before he said it. Instead, he brightened and jostled Lemberas with a strong arm held tightly around his waist. �But I told you that I would take you to Lindon, to find out if that is from where you came.�

Lemberas looked stricken. �But what if I am not from Lindon? Or what if I am? I will not know anyone there, and if you leave me alone ��. He stopped abruptly.

Glorfindel looked at him with pity. �Lemberas, do not fret. You need not stay there. Once we find out if Lindon was indeed your home, you are free to travel or live where you please. We can have a fine time traveling together, if you like. I will show you all the beautiful places I have visited on Middle-earth. Wait until you see Imladris, Lemberas. Have I told you about it before? It sits in a valley cleft from the mountains by a river, in a riven dell. It is glorious. The Elves of Noldorin descent who came with Lord Elrond from Lindon have built there the most glorious haven that you will have ever seen.� Lemberas looked cheered by Glorfindel�s words and paid undivided attention as Glorfindel described Imladris in great detail.

Lord Elrond came to see Glorfindel on the night before the golden warrior and Lemberas were to leave the army and go off on their own to Lindon. �Are you sure it is wise for the two of you to go alone on such a mission?� asked the Elf-lord.

�Yes, but why are you concerned?� asked Glorfindel.

�Glorfindel, you are a true innocent,� said Elrond, concern showing in his eyes. �You are a worthy warrior, capable of defeating anything in your path, but you understand not the danger of traveling in such a small company, and you do not seem to fear being attacked. And Lemberas, whom you choose to take with you, is even more of an innocent than you are. He is like a lost child in the wilderness.�

�We will be fine,� said Glorfindel, his mind set, his face betraying his hurt feelings.

�Glorfindel, I am sorry,� said Elrond. �I am only concerned for your welfare and safety.�

�Lemberas is safe with me, and I can take care of myself,� said Glorfindel.

�That is not what I meant,� said Elrond. �You do not know what people say�� He stopped abruptly, regretting instantly that he had made an inappropriate remark.

�What do they say?� asked Glorfindel with curiosity.

�They say that you and he are a couple,� said Elrond, biting his lip with regret that he chose to say anything.

�I suppose we are a couple of innocents,� said Glorfindel. �But we are both good fighters, and even if we do not know what dangers may lie before us, we do know that for now the enemy has been defeated and we should be as safe on this journey as we have been at any time in the past.�

Elrond decided to drop the subject. �Goodbye, Glorfindel,� he said. �I shall see you again, no doubt when you return.�

Glorfindel gave him a brilliant smile of reassurance before retiring into his tent. He knew that Elrond perhaps worried too much because he had just lost Gil-galad in the recent battle. And he was aware that Elrond had lost his parents and his brother, as well as his guardians who took care of him when his parents departed. With a sigh of sympathy for his friend, Glorfindel settled onto his pallet next to Lemberas, who had stripped down to a pair of light leggings, and let the young Elf circle his stomach with his slender arms, and nestle, as usual, against his back.

�Goodnight, Lemberas. Sleep well. Tomorrow we ride north,� he said.

Lemberas sighed and closed his eyes. �Goodnight, Glorfindel,� he said.

A couple of weeks later, well underway on their journey to Lindon, Glorfindel and Lemberas stopped to make camp. They rested on the banks of the Anduin as it coursed through the lands of the people who were called the horse masters, almost primitive in its desolation. They had left the remainder of the men behind and continued ahead alone on their own horses, enjoying the scenery and the warm summer weather as they passed through the wide-open lands of this region. When the sun began to set they looked for a suitable place in which to build a fire and settle down for the night.

They found such a spot just outside a small wood. A ring of fir trees provided a natural screen from the prevailing winds that came up suddenly and harshly in this part of the country, and they made camp within its circle.

Lemberas surprised Glorfindel by breaking into an impromptu song as they sat in front of their campfire. Glorfindel leaned back, propped on an elbow, twisting stems of grass between his fingers, and listened to his friend�s sweet voice singing a simple but haunting melody. The song concerned a young maiden lost in the wilderness far from home. When he had finished, Lemberas looked at Glorfindel, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

�That song just popped into my mind,� he said. �I must have heard it long ago.�

�Perhaps this is a sign that your memory is returning,� said Glorfindel, in an encouraging voice. �You should feel happy about that.�

Lemberas smiled. �If so, I wish it would open up a bigger crack so that I may reach in to find my real name.� He sighed.

�Don�t worry, Lemberas. For now you are my little Telerin minstrel. Be the one who you are at this moment. You sang a song, therefore you are a singer.�

Lemberas looked at Glorfindel with interest. �Are you saying that each of us should be defined by what we are doing at any moment in time? That we are where we are, how we feel, and named for our feats or work on any given day?�

�Why not?� asked Glorfindel. �It seems to me as good a method of naming or defining a person as any.�

�But Glorfindel,� said Lemberas. �That would mean each of us would possess a thousand names or more, for what each of us does might keep changing almost every day.�

Glorfindel laughed. �And is that not the way it should be? What is more important than what we do each day?�

�But no one would remember us,� said Lemberas in protest. �With so many names!�

�One might remember you more for who you are,� said Glorfindel, �than for a name that matters little.�

�I see what you are doing,� said Lemberas, squinting at Glorfindel in the fading firelight. �You are trying to make me feel better about not having a name and a memory.�

�I will do whatever I can,� said Glorfindel, �to make you feel good about yourself.� He gave a shrug and smiled at Lemberas, his teeth gleaming white in the enveloping darkness.

�Thank you,� said Lemberas, and crawled on hands and knees to Glorfindel�s side, to press a kiss upon his sturdy cheek. Glorfindel, warmed by the sudden contact and touched by the softness of Lemberas� lips and the sweetness of his impulsive act, began to feel warmth spread in his belly and throughout his loins. He gazed down at Lemberas� face, small and glowing golden in the firelight, and he bent his head so that he might return the kiss, brushing his lips very lightly upon Lemberas� own. He tasted sweetness as of honey melting on his tongue, and felt lips as soft as rose petals beneath his mouth, and a sudden passion overwhelmed him. His kiss became more searching and insistent, and he used his mouth to envelop Lemberas� own and suck upon his lips and tongue.

Lemberas, gasping, broke away from the kisses by pushing Glorfindel back with two hands held against his chest. He was clearly startled by Glorfindel�s sudden show of passion. �Glorfindel! I � I � �, he began to stammer.

Glorfindel�s breathing was hard and fast. �I am sorry, Lemberas,� he said. �I know not why I did that.�

Lemberas regarded him with a serious stare. �You do not know?� he asked. �You must have done so for a reason.�

Glorfindel wiped a shaking hand across his mouth. �I wanted to do it,� he said. �Very much,� he added.

Lemberas continued to stare. �I wanted it too,� he whispered at length. �Is it wrong, Glorfindel?�

�I don�t know,� Glorfindel replied. �Does it feel wrong?�

�No,� said Lemberas. He was still kneeling and sat back on his heels while running a hand through the long, silken strands of his hair.

�Sometimes at night, when we were sleeping together on my pallet,� said Glorfindel, �a thing would happen to my body.�

�Oh?� said Lemberas. His heart was beating faster than normal. �What would happen?�

�I would begin to feel a churning in my belly, and warmth would grow there, and more,� said Glorfindel in a halting voice.

�And more?� asked Lemberas, his hands in his lap, pressing down between his thighs.

�Yes. Part of me would get hard,� admitted Glorfindel. �And I would feel this need.�

�Yes?� enquired Lemberas with much interest.

�A need to touch that part of myself,� whispered Glorfindel.

�Ah,� said Lemberas, letting out a deep sigh.

�And to touch you, too, Lemberas,� said Glorfindel. His hand moved down to clutch at his trousers between his legs.

�Ai, Glorfindel,� Lemberas whispered. �But I would love to have you touch me. Especially there.�

Glorfindel moved toward Lemberas, his heart beginning to beat more quickly. Lemberas fell back upon his elbows, and dropped one knee and then the other, so that Glorfindel could plainly see through the thin fabric of his leggings that he, too, was aroused. Glorfindel bent over Lemberas as the smaller Elf lay upon the grass, put a hand to the side of his face, and stroked his hair.

�I have only faint memory of doing this before,� said Glorfindel.

�I have no memory,� replied Lemberas, looking up at Glorfindel with eyes wide and lips parted. �But it feels right somehow.� He half-closed his eyes in preparation for the onslaught of Glorfindel�s lips upon his again. And Glorfindel obliged him, raining many kisses upon him until his lips felt swollen and bruised.

Glorfindel�s hands roamed over the younger Elf�s entire body, and Lemberas felt the thrill of his intimate touches. When Glorfindel�s large hand cupped his arousal and his fingers explored its length and the softness of the sac beneath, he trembled with the anticipation of lying naked in Glorfindel�s arms, and silently willed Glorfindel to undress him. His own hands grappled with Glorfindel�s fastenings, trying to unclasp his jerkin and the shirt beneath and then moving frantically to the ties of his trousers below. Glorfindel broke the kiss, reluctant to stop, but aching for the closer contact that skin upon skin would afford.

�We must each take off our clothes,� he said while gasping for breath.

He unclasped his jerkin and threw it on the ground. Then he pulled his shirt off over his head and let it fall on top of the jerkin. Lemberas watched him in nervous anticipation of seeing the warrior�s body fully naked for the first time. Glorfindel undid his belt and tossed it aside. He began to untie the laces of his trousers and when they were undone, he pulled them down over his hips. His arousal stood forth proudly as he revealed himself to Lemberas.

The young Elf panted with lust when he gazed upon the warrior�s splendid body. He became aroused with almost unbearable passion as he stared at Glorfindel�s impressive erection. �Gods, Glorfindel,� he gasped. �But you are a glorious sight.� He kicked off his boots and rubbed an eager hand over his own solid bulge.

�I am glad you think so,� whispered Glorfindel. �Now let me see you.� And he crawled over the grass to straddle Lemberas� knees as the young Elf sat up, and helped Lemberas to pull his tunic over his head. Once that had been discarded, he bent his attention to Lemberas� leggings, undoing the laces and gently pulling them down over his arousal and peeling them off his legs. They, too, were cast aside and Glorfindel paused to stare at the young Elf before him. �Beautiful,� he said. �You are truly a beautiful sight.�

Both Elves began to kiss each other with renewed passion and vigor. Glorfindel could not remember having made love before, but his body seemed to know exactly what to do. Lemberas responded as if he, too, was familiar with making love. His body pressed against the warrior�s, his need smoldering in his belly like a fire. One hand slid down Glorfindel�s chest and then his belly until it found the warrior�s member that stood upward and rigid between them, nestled against the smoothness of their stomachs. Glorfindel gasped with pleasure as Lemberas� fingers closed around his shaft and began to stroke, exploring its length, girth, and the feel of its skin that slid like silk over the hard column beneath. Glorfindel's body squirmed under Lemberas� probing touches.

Lemberas broke the kiss and hissed, �Touch me, Glorfindel. Touch my hardness as I have touched yours.� He used his tongue to outline the curves of Glorfindel�s ear, nibbling on the point when he came to it, and poking his delicate tongue into the orifice, to moans emanating from the warrior�s lips. When Glorfindel complied and took Lemberas� arousal in his strong fingers, the smaller Elf groaned at the touch of his companion�s hand. �If we keep doing this to each other,� whispered Lemberas, �we shall both reach release. Keep stroking � oh!� he cried as Glorfindel�s hand began to speed up its rhythm and Lemberas put all his attention into delivering the same kinds of touches to his partner.

Soon afterward, Glorfindel climaxed with a loud moan, spending his essence onto the grass beside him. Lemberas followed, spilling his seed onto his own stomach while emitting a low groan. After they had cleaned themselves and unrolled their bedding, they lay on it quiet and satisfied, each reflecting upon his shared memories of what they had just done. Lemberas snuggled against Glorfindel�s back as was his wont, sighing happily. Soon, both Elves fell asleep.

Many days and weeks passed. During their journey, Glorfindel began to instruct Lemberas in knife-play and archery, in order to help pass the time when they rested their horses. Lemberas was already a skilled swordsman and archer, but the long knives were new to him. Glorfindel was well-skilled in all manner of combat. When he first showed Lemberas his battle stance using the knives and his moves, the younger Elf became fascinated with the idea of learning all he could from his mentor. He thought that there was something elegant in the movements of the arms as well as the body while wielding the long-handled knives.

�Lemberas,� Glorfindel called to him from atop his horse when they had arrived at a brook and the animals looked to be thirsty. They were in a place where the Anduin passed between an enormous forest to the east and a long range of mountains to the west. The valley in which they found themselves was peaceful and beautiful in its tranquility. Thick grass grew along the riverbanks and unfurled in carpets of emerald until it reached the foothills of the mountains. On the other side it rolled away in lime-green pastures until it came to the edge of the great forest. There it disappeared into the blackness of the thick-grown trees, their ominous heads raised high into the sky and blocking the sun from ever reaching the forest floor.

A shadow passed over Lemberas� face. �I have been in this place before, or if not this one, then a place just like it,� he thought. �What is it, Glorfindel?� he said aloud. Glorfindel stopped his horse and turned around to look at their surroundings.

�Do you want to stop here a while?� he asked.

Lemberas looked pleased. �Yes, I would like that,� he said as he dismounted. He gave his horse�s rump a pat, and the animal trotted off happily to drink from the creek. Glorfindel jumped down from his mount, who gladly joined its companion.

�I have a sense of knowing this place,� said Lemberas. �I am sure that I have been in this region before. Both the forest and the mountains look and feel familiar to me.�

�Are you sure?� asked Glorfindel. �That vast forest is called Greenwood. It is as big as a whole country, and in fact, it is a kingdom of Elves. Its king, Thranduil, reigns from his halls in the north-east corner of the forest realm. He dwells in caves, by a riverside. The Elves there make wine and trade with the men of that region.� Lemberas regarded Glorfindel with acute interest as he spoke, but did not say anything more.

After Glorfindel had finished talking about Greenwood, Lemberas asked, �Do you think we could practice some more with the knives today? I feel I could improve on my swiftness if I work hard on the movements every day.�

�Of course, Lemberas,� said Glorfindel, amused by his young companion�s enthusiasm.

Glorfindel busied himself with setting up camp and building a fire while Lemberas practiced with the knives, and then Glorfindel sat down to watch him. �Your footwork has improved,� he noted as the younger Elf twisted and turned, twirling the blades and slashing the air with the knives.

�Thank you,� said Lemberas, his expression bright with pleasure, a wide smile gracing his face.

After Lemberas had practiced for a few hours, Glorfindel yawned and asked, �Are you not tiring from all this practice?�

Lemberas shook his head and continued to twirl the knives, their blades flashing red as fire in the setting sun. �I would like to bathe in that stream before it gets dark,� said Glorfindel. �And I thought you might like to join me.�

Lemberas stopped in mid-spin and dropped his arms to his sides. �Now that you mention it, I am feeling a little weary,� he said with a grin. He walked over to where Glorfindel had placed their weapons and slid the knives back into their holsters. He removed his tunic and pulled off his boots. �I have worked up quite a thirst,� he remarked. Glorfindel sauntered up to him and handed him a water skin. He smiled at Lemberas, with a look of need on his face, his blue eyes sparkling and his brows risen as if in a question. Placing a hand on Lemberas� shoulder, he began massaging the muscle with deft fingers.

�You look comely with your skin sweaty,� said the warrior, appraising the slender Elf�s glistening torso.

Lemberas smiled and drank deeply of the water. Then he poured what was left in the skin over his head, drenching his hair and letting the water run in rivulets down his body. Glorfindel leaned forward and kissed Lemberas on the mouth. He let his hand slide down Lemberas� arm, wiping away the drops of water that beaded upon his perspiring flesh. Then Glorfindel broke the kiss and began to untie the laces of Lemberas� leggings. He knelt when he had loosened them and pulled them down to the young Elf�s ankles.

Running his hands over the smooth muscles of Lemberas� abdomen, Glorfindel caused his companion�s member to swell and begin to rise. Glorfindel caught it in one hand and gazed at it with fondness. He felt suddenly that he would like it to be in his mouth, that he might taste it. They had never before tasted one another, both being ignorant of the ways of love-making. He slicked his fingers down the shaft of Lemberas� penis, causing the young member to spring forward eagerly. When it was standing straight on its own, Glorfindel put his lips to the tip and kissed it. Lemberas shuddered and gasped, his hands clutching fistfuls of Glorfindel�s hair. His body lurched forward of its own accord, in the shock of this new sensation. Glorfindel began to suck, slowly at first, and only the shining knob, and then more fully, until the entire member was pulled into his mouth and partway down his throat. Lemberas groaned at the feel of the soft, wet warmth around his aching member. �Glorfindel,� he sighed, and his body swayed toward that welcome heat. Glorfindel grasped him by the buttocks and pulled the sweet hips even closer that he might devour more of the delicious length.

Glorfindel stopped sucking when Lemberas� moans became too insistent. He did not want the younger Elf to come too soon. He wanted to ravish him in the water. �Ai, Gods, Lemberas, but you are sweet,� he said, wiping his fingers across his lips, to taste the viscous liquid after he had released the young Elf�s tender shaft.

�Ai, Glorfindel, but you fill me with excitement,� cried Lemberas, grasping and squeezing his erect member, trying to hold back the flood of ecstasy that Glorfindel had caused to well in him. He gasped and swiped back long tendrils of hair that had become caught in his mouth and others that were plastered to his neck. �Let me do the same to you, that you might feel the pleasure of lips upon your most vulnerable of places.�

Glorfindel stood and rubbed himself between his legs. Lemberas could see the warrior�s sizeable erection poking his trousers forward. Glorfindel hastily undressed, ripping his clothes off and flinging them everywhere. When he was naked, he tried to press down his arousal as he walked awkwardly toward the stream, grabbing hold of Lemberas� hand and pulling him along behind.

The two Elves could not quite get to their destination without stopping, however, as they longed for contact between their bodies. Glorfindel stopped suddenly and tumbled to the ground. His young companion collapsed on top of him. The golden warrior lay on the ground, holding Lemberas atop himself, pressing the young Elf�s crotch to his own, their hard lengths rubbing against each other, their lips locked in a ferocious kiss. They kissed and fondled each other. At one point the Balrog-slayer grasped their two erections in one large hand and rubbed them together, creating a delicious friction. Lemberas screamed, �Glorfindel! Glorfindel! Ai!� in an expression of agonized lust.

�Come,� gasped the golden Elf after they had caressed each other in lascivious haste. �Let us get into the water. I want you to taste me there, where it is wet and fluid.� He slid his hands under Lemberas� body and lifted him into his strong arms, carrying him into the stream.

It was summer and the water was warm and comfortable. Glorfindel put Lemberas down and the two Elves resumed kissing, but they were gentler this time, their tongues pressing together in affectionate touches. Whispering endearments to each other: �my beautiful warrior,� �my tender little soldier,� and similar things, they embraced as the water encased their legs. Glorfindel grasped Lemberas by the hand and pulled him to where it was shallower. Lemberas got down on his knees in the rippling brown and silver water of the stream. Placing his hands on Glorfindel�s thighs, and laying his head against the warrior�s hip, the young Elf gently turned his face so that he could see Glorfindel�s rigid length jutting out from his body. Lemberas moved closer so that his lips just brushed the side of the slick shaft. When he felt the soft touches of Lemberas� lips, Glorfindel sighed. His knees began to buckle as Lemberas grasped the length in his tender hand and guided the tip into his eager, waiting mouth. Glorfindel thought he would not last more than seconds from the mesmerizing feel of Lemberas� sensual strokes upon his arousal.

�Ah, Gods,� he moaned in lustful anguish as Lemberas applied the most exquisite, soft caresses he had ever felt. �Please�I am not�going to last-- � he cried, and could not hold back any longer. Glorfindel exploded his seed into Lemberas� mouth, feeling immediate guilt because he thought the young Elf might find it alarming, or distasteful.

Lemberas did, in fact, cough and splutter a little as he swallowed the unfamiliar substance, more from surprise than distaste. But he lifted his head to smile at Glorfindel. �I think I could learn to do this better,� he said. �Possibly with more practice, like with my knife-work. Practice once a day should not be too difficult to manage.� He gave Glorfindel an impish smile.

Glorfindel burst into laughter and pulled the young Elf to his feet. �You are a delight, Lemberas,� he cried, and hugged the smaller Elf to his chest.

Lemberas pulled away from the warrior so that he could stare into Glorfindel�s eyes. �I love you, Glorfindel,� he said.

Glorfindel blushed pink. �Ah, Lemberas,� he said, stroking the earnest Elf�s fine jaw line. �You are so young and innocent, and you mean the world to me.� He suddenly looked embarrassed and extricated himself from the young Elf�s grasp. Wading into the deeper water, he said, �Come, let us wash ourselves and then go to find and prepare something for our meal. I am hungry, are you not?�

Lemberas gazed at the golden warrior�s back as Glorfindel moved away through the water. He was curious at his lover�s sudden pulling away from him. But he shook off the feeling and smiled at the warrior. He was so full of affection for Glorfindel at this moment that his fondness overcame any other emotion.

The two Elves went to hunt something for their dinner after drying off and getting dressed, finding rabbit, pheasant, and plenty of nuts, berries and herbs to make a tasty stew. Afterward, they relaxed by their fire and then got up to practice archery until they grew tired. Glorfindel was impressed to discover that Lemberas� skills with the bow and arrow might be somewhat superior to his own.

When it came time to go to sleep, the Elves assumed their usual spoon-like positioning, lying on their sides, Lemberas behind Glorfindel, his arms wrapped around the warrior�s body. They both drifted off into a sleep so deep and long that neither heard the sound of footfalls made by a patrol of Mirkwood Elves who had spotted their campfire smoke in the early light of dawn.

Glorfindel was first to awaken when he felt the prod of a spear-tip being held firmly to his chest. �Don�t move,� said a voice, and pinned Glorfindel to the ground with the spear.

�We mean you no harm,� said Glorfindel calmly. �We are not your enemy.� His gaze took in the group of Silvan Elves, slight of build but strong. They were dressed in the green and brown forest colors that kept them well-camouflaged in their woodland realm. They were armed with spears and bows, and Glorfindel knew that each of them was likely a deadly accurate shot. He lay back and forced himself to relax. He did not think that these Elves would hurt either him or Lemberas, but he was astounded by and not prepared for the next words that they spoke.

They were all staring down at Lemberas in great surprise. One of them cried, �This is the King�s son! It is Legolas, who has not returned from the Dagor Dagorlad.�

Another knelt and shook Lemberas gently by the shoulder. �Master Legolas!� he entreated. �Wake up! We have found you!�

Lemberas came awake with a jolt. As a startled Glorfindel looked on, Lemberas stared at his captors and tried to make sense of what they were telling him.

�You must come with us now, my lord,� said one of the Silvans. �The King, your father, will be most pleased to see you. He worried that you had fallen in battle, since we had no word of you, and especially because you went off without his permission and therefore had no proper escort.�

�What are you saying?� asked Lemberas. �Do you know who I am?�

�You are Prince Legolas of Mirkwood, my lord,� said one of the Silvan Elves, looking puzzled. �The only son of King Thranduil.�

Lemberas turned toward Glorfindel, his eyes wide with terror. �Are they serious?� he asked the warrior.

�He has lost his memory,� Glorfindel offered, but the leader of the Silvan patrol cut short his explanation.

�Come, my lord,� he said. �Come home with us. You appear to have forgotten who you are.�

�Yes, he has lost his memory,� Glorfindel tried again. �My captain found him on the field of battle�at Dagorlad, suffering from head wounds. I am no kidnapper. I was taking him to Lindon�to seek the advice of Lord C�rdan, who may have known him. He carries a Telerin sword, which led me to believe he may have come from there.�

�Who are you?� asked the Silvan leader, still regarding Glorfindel with suspicion.

�I am Lord Glorfindel of Imladris,� said Glorfindel. �I am second-in-command to Lord Elrond. He who was my commander and chief, the High King Gil-galad, has sadly been slain in the same battle where Lember�er�Prince Legolas sustained his wounds.�

�Ah. That is terrible news of your High King. King Thranduil has not yet had word of this tragic event. Yes, the Prince�s sword was a gift from his grandfather, Oropher, to Thranduil. Legolas must have �borrowed� it before he ran away.� The Elf looked askance at Legolas, who was still too puzzled to be ashamed of having taken a prize sword in such a rash manner.

Glorfindel smiled, but he was still feeling stunned from the shock of finding out Legolas� true identity in such a manner as this, in the middle of their journey, which now had come to an abrupt end, he supposed.

He was right, for in the next moment, the Silvan patrol leader ordered, �Get into line now, lads. Come, my lord Legolas, we must make haste to your father�s castle. It is not fitting that he should be kept waiting any longer to discover that we have found his missing son.� He bent to help Legolas to his feet. �Thank you, Lord Glorfindel, for keeping our prince safe.�

�No, wait!� cried Legolas. �We cannot leave Glor�I mean�Lord Glorfindel behind!�

�I am sure that Lord Glorfindel would like to be getting back to his own home now that we have found you, my lord. There is no need for him to be kept away from his duties any more than you should be kept from your father.� The leader nodded to Glorfindel. �Should I presume that you shall wish to return to your home, my lord?�

Glorfindel, standing tall and at attention, nodded back to him, trying to maintain the proper demeanor though he was confused and upset. He would rather accompany Legolas to his home to be sure of his young charge�s safety, but the patrol leader�s words made him feel guilty about shirking his own responsibilities.

�No! Glorfindel!� cried Legolas. Glorfindel threw him a look of pity mixed with distress. He did not want the Prince of Mirkwood to embarrass himself in front of his own soldiers by openly declaring his love to Elrond�s second-in-command of Imladris, and thus he did not speak a word as the patrol of Elves led Legolas to his horse and helped him to mount.

Legolas sent Glorfindel a stricken look from atop his steed. The golden warrior stood stock-still, watching the troop depart.

�Glorfindel!� Legolas cried back to him, his voice a plaintive sound like the beat of dove�s wings upon Glorfindel�s ears. �I love you!� Legolas cried, and these honest words resonated for a long time in Glorfindel�s ears, bereft of Legolas� voice long after the Prince of Mirkwood was gone.

PART TWO

After many relatively peaceful years, Glorfindel got used to his life and daily routine in Imladris. After the turbulence at the end of the Second Age, Elrond met and married Celebr�an of L�rien and twin sons were born to them, and then a daughter. As the children grew, Glorfindel became busy instructing the twins in skills such as sword-fighting, archery and horse-riding. Elladan and Elrohir grew up to be strong, capable warriors. They occupied themselves mostly with riding on patrol, accompanying the Rangers of the North, the D�nedain who were instrumental in protecting the peaceful northern lands from Orc raids and other dangers.

Glorfindel thought about Legolas often, although he always tried to push those thoughts away. He made no attempt to visit prince for a number of reasons. First, because the discovery that Lemberas was King Thranduil�s son made it difficult to approach him without giving away the reason why Glorfindel would have reason to go to his home. Such a visit might bring embarrassment or shame to the King and his family. While romantic relationships between males were common enough among the Elves of Imladris, Glorfindel did not know how that would be regarded in Mirkwood.

Second, he was hesitant to visit because of Legolas� memory loss. If the return to his home was going to be an aid to the return of Legolas� memory, then Glorfindel felt it was best to let him alone while his mind and body went through the stress of dealing with the flood of memories inevitably rushing back to him.

Third, the Silvan warriors who had found them had mentioned that Legolas ran away to the battle and took Oropher�s sword without permission. By this it sounded as if there were unresolved issues between father and son that Legolas would have to deal with on top of his returning memories. Glorfindel felt that Legolas would not have time for him because of his resolving family issues, or more that he would be a distraction for Legolas, keeping him from healing. And after a great deal of time had gone by, Glorfindel thought that it was too late for a reunion.

Last, Glorfindel felt ashamed, because Legolas had told him that he loved him, and Glorfindel in turn had responded by saying nothing. He regretted his inaction and felt sure that Legolas would be so disgusted with him for being dishonest about his own feelings and not reciprocating Legolas� honesty that he would never want to see Glorfindel again.

Therefore, Glorfindel tried to forget about Legolas, and over the years he became close with both of Elrond�s twin sons, Elladan and Elrohir, and he and Elrohir became occasional lovers, but they were never involved in a serious relationship.

After several hundred years had passed, Imladris was buzzing with the news that a party of visitors from Mirkwood would soon be arriving. Elladan and Elrohir had been on their first visit to Mirkwood recently and had arranged for a return trip to be made by the Elves of the green wood. The Mirkwood Elves were to learn new fighting routines from the Elves of Imladris, in return for the archers to give them some weapons instruction of their own. Glorfindel retired to his room after he had learned about the arrival of the party of Silvan Elves from Thranduil�s realm. His senses were reeling. Memories of the last time he had been with Legolas came back to him so vividly that it rendered him incoherent and he could no longer speak rationally to others. He could not bear having to carry on with any of his usual duties. He had asked Elrohir, who expressed concern for Glorfindel�s well-being, to make excuses for him to everyone, but he was adamant that he would not be joining them for dinner. He excused himself and retired for the evening, his surprised comrades wondering what was wrong with him.

Once safely in his bedchamber, Glorfindel locked the door and leaned against it, the back of his head pressed against the cool wood. It was a spacious, airy second-level room with a floor-to-ceiling window opening onto a balcony, and an adjoining bathroom. His heart beat rapidly in his chest and he waited until it slowed to a normal pace before striding to his bed and quickly disrobing. He was dressed in light warrior�s garb from his sword-practice earlier, and this he stripped from his body and discarded randomly onto the bed. Crossing the floor to his wardrobe cabinet, Glorfindel selected a light robe, pulled it on, and walked out through his window onto his balcony to let the fresh, cool evening air drift over him and perhaps cool his agitation.

He faced the ornate gates of grey granite through which visitors arrived at Elrond�s house. As Glorfindel watched with curiosity, he saw a small contingent of his fellow Elves from Imladris�a welcoming party�ride out toward the gates. Elladan and Elrohir were with them. He felt a brief stab of guilt that he was not with them.

After a few moments, he saw several horses arrive from outside the gates, traveling in single file, bearing riders dressed in the Silvan costume. He continued to watch, fascinated, as the Elves continued to file one by one through the gates. The hollow sound of clip-clopping hooves was loud to his ears, echoing the hollowness in his heart. The flickering of the torches attached to the gates in black iron sconces caused his eyes to water. His gaze was arrested by a jolt of recognition, as he found himself suddenly looking at his lover of more than five hundred years before.

There was Legolas, sitting astride a sleek white mare, dressed in the Mirkwood green and brown, his long, straight hair caught back behind his head and streaming over his cloak of pale grey, its pale color distinctive from that of the other Silvans. Glorfindel�s legs grew weak, his knees almost buckling as he gripped the railing for support. Many emotions flooded through him, not the least of which was the realization that he was in love. Guilt, regret, self-loathing�all subsequently coursed through the Balrog-slayer as he stood on his balcony looking down at the mingling of Elves, yet only one held his full attention. When the Silvans dismounted in order to follow the Elves of Imladris into the House, Glorfindel retreated into his chambers and lay down on his bed. Presently some servants came in to fill his bathtub. Glorfindel usually enjoyed his nightly bath, but this evening found him washing quickly without much care and then retiring early to his bed.

Glorfindel lay restless in miserable agony, reflecting upon his past misbehavior and negligence in allowing Legolas to be so cruelly taken away from him, and wondering if the prince harbored any ill feeling toward him. He tossed and turned beneath his covers, unable to find a comfortable position no matter how he tried. Presently he heard a knock at the door and leapt out of bed, his heart beating rapidly in foolish, irrational expectation. No, it could not be Legolas. What was he thinking? He was glad of the interruption the knock provided, and his rational self told him that whoever the visitor was, he would probably be a welcome distraction.

�Who is it?� His voice was breathless as he asked the question.

�It is I, Glorfindel. Elrohir,� came the muffled reply.

Glorfindel unlatched and pulled open the door, and Elrohir stepped inside the room. �What do you want?� asked Glorfindel in a dull tone, though he was glad of the company.

�Are you coming to join us in the Hall of Fire?� asked Elrohir. �We are having quite a jolly party.�

�No,� said Glorfindel. �I cannot,� he said by way of explanation. He shook his shaggy mane of golden hair and retreated to his bed. Elrohir followed him and stood before his friend as Glorfindel plunked himself down, wondering why the warrior appeared so distraught.

�Thranduil�s son has asked for you,� said the son of Elrond.

Glorfindel�s face turned bright pink despite his efforts to appear disinterested. �What do you mean, he asked for me?�

�He enquired if Lord Glorfindel was present in Imladris at this time,� said Elrohir, puzzled by Glorfindel�s strange demeanor. �And wondered why you weren�t with the others. I told him that you were, indeed here, and that I would try to find you.�

Glorfindel sighed, and sank his face into his hands, his elbows resting on his thighs.

�What is the matter, Glorfindel?� asked Elrohir. �I think there is something going on here I do not understand.� He sat down beside his friend, brushing back the thick wave of hair that hung down and obscured Glorfindel�s face. �Do you know the Prince of Mirkwood well?�

Glorfindel let out another sigh. �I suppose I could tell someone about our mutual history,� he replied. �It is an interesting story, but one that does not have a very happy ending. I am afraid that I do not come out of this looking very good.�

�Why? What have you done, Glorfindel?� asked Elrohir with concern, his warm hand massaging his friend�s back.

Glorfindel began to relate the story of finding an Elf who was thought to be Telerin upon the battlefield of Dagorlad, and how eventually this Elf they called Lemberas was discovered by the Silvan Elves of Mirkwood to be their own lost prince.

When Glorfindel paused in telling his story, Elrohir asked if he could disrobe and get into the warrior�s bed with him while they talked. Glorfindel looked shocked, although it was not the first time he and Elrohir had spent the night together.

�Elrohir, I am sorry, but Legolas and I were lovers,� said the Balrog-slayer, �and while we have been apart for many years, I do not wish to taint our relationship further by bedding you or anyone else.�

�But Glorfindel, you and I have been lovers in the past,� Elrohir reminded him.

�Casual lovers,� corrected Glorfindel, �and at the time I thought I would never see Legolas again.�

�And you have not,� said Elrohir. �Yet why not? Why have you and he become estranged?�

Glorfindel dropped his head, a flush coloring his face. He swept a hand through his mass of golden hair, pushing it behind his back. A frown puckered his otherwise smooth forehead. �He told me he loved me at the end, while he was being led away by his kinsmen who found him and me,� said Glorfindel. �He was distraught and wanted me to stay with him. He didn�t know his kinsmen at all, yet they knew their own prince. It must have been terrifying for him to have been wrenched away from me, the only person he knew well in the world.� Glorfindel wrung his hands in distress, his face a mask of self-recrimination.

�Surely you followed him to see him safely home, Glorfindel,� said Elrohir. �You were almost there.�

Glorfindel brushed away tears beginning to fall from his azure eyes. �No,� he whispered. �At the time I felt a fool. Legolas� sudden declaration of love caught me by surprise and I � I faltered. I froze. I did nothing. I stood silent and said not a word, and let them lead my loved one away from me. And then I turned my back on him and returned home.�

�Oh Gods, Glorfindel!� cried Elrohir.

�Now do you see how I cannot face him? I cannot look him in the eyes and greet him as if nothing has happened. I must now think about what I should do. I shall have to talk to him, but not at this moment. I cannot talk to him yet. I need more time to consider what first I shall say to him.�

�Have you never discussed this with anyone before now?� asked Elrohir. �What about Father? Did he know of your relationship with Legolas?�

�No,� said Glorfindel. �He knew that we were comrades but nothing more. I tried to put it all out of my mind, thinking that I would never see Legolas again, and that I could make myself forget him.�

�You have been a fool, Glorfindel,� said Elrohir. �Father could have arranged to bring you together before now.�

Glorfindel allowed one loud sob to escape his throat. �I am a fool. I am in agreement with you wholeheartedly, my friend,� he said.

�Let me stay with you tonight,� begged Elrohir. �We need not engage in anything of a passionate nature. You need advice, and someone close with whom to discuss your dilemma. I can surely help you come to a decision on how best to approach Legolas and how to explain, if he is still upset about the circumstances of your parting, why you acted the way you did.�

�Very well,� Glorfindel conceded with a shudder of exhaustion. �I do feel I need someone to talk to, now that you mention it.� He crawled under his covers and gestured for Elrohir to go over to his wardrobe. �You may leave your outer clothing in my cabinet, and you should find a clean nightshirt in there that you can put on.�

When Elrohir had disrobed he climbed into the spacious bed with Glorfindel, and the two Elves talked long into the night, eventually falling asleep together in each others� arms. Save for a light kiss on Glorfindel�s forehead and a friendly tousle of his hair, Elrohir did not otherwise make any overtures toward the golden warrior, and neither did Glorfindel to Elrohir.

In the early hours of the morning, Glorfindel�s servants entered his room, moving silently to build a new fire in his grate. It was not lost on them that Glorfindel had a bed partner, nor that person�s identity. They left extra towels and a robe for Elrohir, and then made their exit, and within a couple of hours the whole of Imladris knew that Elrohir had spent the night in Glorfindel�s bed.

When Glorfindel awoke, he immediately nudged Elrohir until Elrond�s son awoke too. The Balrog-slayer felt a great deal better. He had resolved the night before, with Elrohir�s encouragement, that he would bare his soul to Legolas at the first opportunity, declare his love, apologize profusely, and throw himself at the Mirkwood prince�s feet to beg forgiveness. Glorfindel felt exhilarated. He was sure that if their love for each other was true, that it should have withstood his foolishness all those years ago. Excited in the anticipation of seeing Legolas again, Glorfindel bounded out of bed and quickly stripped naked, striding into his bathroom and lowering himself into the tub of water, as Elrohir yawned and stretched while watching him.

�May I join you in your bath?� Elrohir asked while he lit a taper from the fire and held the flame to a row of candles arranged on a table alongside the tub.

�You may not,� said Glorfindel emphatically.

�Oh, come now, Glorfindel!� cried Elrohir. �After everything we discussed last night and the conclusion to which we came regarding your plans, you can surely trust me. I promise that I will not touch you.�

�Were you watching me cross the floor nude and climb into the bath?� asked Glorfindel.

�I could not help but notice you, Glorfindel,� said Elrohir.

�That is what I thought,� said Glorfindel. �I can see evidence in your leggings of your excitement at seeing my nakedness. Therefore you are not permitted to enter the bath with me.�

Elrohir looked down at the protuberance causing his leggings to push awkwardly forward. �Ahh, Glorfindel, but the mere sight of you arouses me,� he sighed. �I cannot help myself.�

�Then you shall bathe after I come out,� admonished Glorfindel, but he could not suppress a smile. �Now please hand me a towel.�

Elrohir complied, but made sure that he caught a glimpse of the warrior�s form before the towel was securely wrapped around him.

While Glorfindel dressed for breakfast, unaware of Elrond�s son�s bathroom doings, Elrohir took himself in hand beneath the surface of the bathwater and sighed as he brought himself to lonely completion, with the recent vision of Glorfindel fresh in his thoughts.

When the two Elves were dressed, they made their way to the dining hall where a sumptuous breakfast had been laid out for the inhabitants and their guests. Glorfindel and Elrohir found two empty chairs together at the table, already occupied by at least a dozen Elves, the buzz of conversation humming busily in the air. Elrohir helped himself to a pear from a fluted glass bowl full of fruit. �Are you not hungry, Glorfindel?� he asked, taking note of his companion�s pale countenance.

�I am nervous beyond imagining,� said Glorfindel.

Within the next half-hour, several different Elves joined Elrohir and Glorfindel in conversation, greeting them and exchanging other small pleasantries. Glorfindel, remote and responding mechanically, would not have remembered any of the conversation, nor the Elves to whom he was speaking, if he had been asked to recall them later.

He awaited the arrival at breakfast of only one person. Soon he was rewarded, for Legolas presently entered the room, followed by a few other Silvan Elves. Glorfindel felt the blood drain from his face and he became nauseated. Elrohir squeezed his knee with a supportive hand. Legolas gracefully took a seat at the table and looked around at the other diners.

When the prince�s glance landed upon Glorfindel, his relaxed but cool expression changed to one of stony immobility. He took in the Balrog-slayer�s pale skin, craggy features looking as if they had been carved of rock, with more lines than Legolas had remembered, and a leaner appearing body. The Balrog-slayer�s hair was more magnificent than he recalled�longer, shaggier, and worn completely unbound. Glorfindel�s glittering grey-blue eyes shone like the sea-water with an expression that looked somewhat akin to fear. �Ah, but he is so beautiful�, Legolas thought, �more so than he has been in my dreams.�

Glorfindel noticed that Legolas looked older. Or perhaps it was wisdom showing in his face that had not been there before. The warrior wondered if Legolas� memory had returned, and had caused this more focused aspect to his countenance. His round blue eyes looked sad, and his face was set in an inscrutable gaze. Glorfindel could not fathom the meaning behind his look, his face expressionless except for his eyes. Was Glorfindel reading him correctly? Was Legolas still in love with him? Something in Legolas� bent-forward posture seemed welcoming to Glorfindel and his heart became uplifted. Color returned to his cheeks and he began to eat a tiny bit of the food. He determined to try to speak to Legolas at the first opportunity.

That came when the Elves finished eating and gradually began to rise and to mingle, continuing separate conversations that had begun at table. Elrohir managed to whisper, �Good luck,� to Glorfindel before he drifted away. After a few maneuvers in the right direction, Glorfindel at last came face-to-face with Legolas and smiled down upon him, looking into the prince�s eyes with all the warmth he could muster.

�Well met again, Your Highness,� said Glorfindel.

�And how are you, Lord Glorfindel?� asked Legolas, returning his polite smile.

�To be truthful, I am in turmoil,� said the Balrog-slayer, keeping his tone quiet. �Would you care to accompany me to a small library where we may converse in private?�

�If you lead the way,� said Legolas with a catch in his voice, �I will follow.�

Glorfindel complied, and the two Elves excused themselves from the gathering and walked stiffly toward the room in question, Glorfindel walking ahead of Legolas. When they reached the library, not the main one but a small room not unlike a parlor, its walls lined with bookshelves, Glorfindel shut the door firmly and then turned to face Legolas. His words spilled forth in an impatient stream. �Legolas, I am so sorry for the estrangement between us. I cannot tell you how happy I am to see you again. You will not believe how much I have berated myself over the years for not contacting you.�

�Why did you not, Glorfindel?� asked Legolas. His tone held a touch of melancholy, though his expression remained placid and unrevealing.

�I had many reasons,� said the flustered Glorfindel, his face flushing. �Not the least of which was my worry that our relationship might not be acceptable to your father or your people, and I wished to spare your life any further complications as you dealt with the return of your memory.� The Balrog-slayer paused for a moment to consider his own words. Legolas still did not speak, but stared at Glorfindel with rapt attention. He did not look either angry or pleased.

�Tell me,� the warrior continued, �Did your memory return? Did it happen right away, or did it occur over many months? And did it return all at once or in pieces?�

�It has never returned,� Legolas replied after a slight pause. �But I do remember everything that occurred since the day you found me on the battlefield.� He took a step closer to Glorfindel and paused, gazing into the warrior�s eyes with burning intensity. �Vividly,� he added.

Glorfindel was dumfounded. He was frustrated with himself for not knowing how to speak the right words, and use the perfect phrase that Legolas should hear so that he would know exactly what Glorfindel felt. �Legolas, I do not know what to say to you,� he confessed, fumbling with his words.

�Do you not?� asked Legolas quietly. �After what I said to you?�

Glorfindel looked puzzled for a moment, and then a dawning light shone upon him. �Legolas, I should have told you this long ago, at the time of our parting. The reasons I did not do so at the time were many-fold, but primarily it was because I am a fool. I may have great prowess as a warrior, but in matters of the heart I am a clumsy novice. Said simply, I love you.� He stood, his arms at his sides, feeling as awkward as a schoolboy.

�Do you mean that, Glorfindel?� asked Legolas, his voice echoing the soft sound of the rain that had started to fall outside the library window.

�I mean it now, and I should have said it then,� said the warrior. �For I have always felt it. Can you forgive me?�

For answer, Legolas moved closer until his chest pressed against Glorfindel�s. He lifted his head so that the taller Elf could see his face. �I have never stopped loving you,� he said, �and never doubted that we would be together again.�

Glorfindel bent to kiss him, the pent-up love and passion he felt for his wounded soldier of long ago manifesting itself in the tenderness his lips bestowed upon those of his prince. He closed his eyes that he might relish all the sensations he felt. Legolas� lips were soft and sweet, as he remembered, and far from being tentative as the prince�s kisses once were, he returned Glorfindel�s caresses eagerly. Their bodies melted together, the touch of their groins inflaming them both. Glorfindel slid one hand to Legolas� buttocks and pulled him closer, causing their thighs to slide against each other. The prince�s hands caressed the golden warrior�s back and shoulders. Glorfindel�s other hand stroked the silken hair behind the younger Elf�s head.

After kissing for many minutes, Glorfindel lifted his lips just far enough from Legolas� in order to ask him, �Would you like to go up to my rooms?�

Legolas� lips brushed feathery-light against Glorfindel�s as he replied, �I would like nothing better.�

Glorfindel led the way, ignoring the curious stares of guests, residents and servants, as he and Legolas made their way back to Glorfindel�s chambers. Gossip began to grow among the servants of Imladris about a possible love triangle between Lord Glorfindel, Elrohir and this young prince from Mirkwood.

�It is not far now,� Glorfindel explained breathlessly, after the two Elves had negotiated a flight of stairs and several corridors. His breathlessness, born of exhilaration, not from stair-climbing, caused him to pause in the hallway and lean with his back against the wall for support.

�Are you all right, Glorfindel?� asked Legolas, concern causing him to dash to Glorfindel�s side and place a soothing hand against the side of the warrior�s face.

Glorfindel grasped his hand and kissed it. �Yes, I am fine. What I am feeling comes from hundreds of years of strong, buried emotions that have suddenly risen to the surface and are flooding my senses. How is it that you remain so calm, Lember�I mean�Legolas?�

�I have kept only the single thought foremost in my mind,� said Legolas, �all these long years, that one day we would be together again, and that it would be forever, and that belief has sustained me through every day that we have lived apart. I suppose, too, that because of my memory loss I concentrated upon learning everything I could about my home of Mirkwood, and got to know again my father and all of the people who were my friends before the battle. There were problems in the past that I still do not remember but they have been relayed to me by the people I know. Some rifts have been mended. It has been both an enjoyable and a trying time.�

�Were you very much hurt that I did not come to see you?� asked Glorfindel.

�I did wonder,� said Legolas, �and it did hurt me, but I told myself that it was because you did not wish to interfere in my reunion with my people and that you probably believed that my reintegration into society there might be difficult enough as it was without the added complication of an illicit relationship. And you were right not to come too soon, Glorfindel. Mirkwood society is rather structured and rigid. Peoples� beliefs in their moral doctrines are strict. While relationships between males are not uncommon, it is preferred that male-female bonds be the choice among Mirkwood Elves, so that we may strengthen our numbers. As the years passed, I did hope that you would eventually come, but I felt that I could, after a while, come here to find you. And that is what I have done.�

�You were right about me, Legolas,� said Glorfindel, taking his loved one�s hand. �That was one of the reasons I did not come to Mirkwood. I did not want to cause any problems for you. There were other reasons too, and as time went by��

�That is fair, Glorfindel,� stated Legolas, his acceptance showing in his raised brows and soft eyes full of liquid sympathy.

A wave of love for Legolas rushed through Glorfindel�s being. �Come,� he said, �let us go now to my rooms. I do not think I can abide being apart from you a moment longer.� And he pulled Legolas by the hand the remaining few steps down the corridor to his rooms and they went inside. Upon entering, they found some servants dusting and tidying, and Glorfindel shooed them away. The servants raised eyebrows at each other on their way out.

A fresh fire had been lit in the grate and the room felt comfortably warm. Glorfindel went about to light a few candles, which soon infused the air with their faint scent of honey, and a soft yellow glow. The rain outside was falling heavier now, its soft sound a soothing background for the lovers� low moans and whispers, as they hugged and caressed each other upon Glorfindel�s bed.

Glorfindel began first to remove Legolas� clothing. The smaller Elf was lightly dressed in a simple tunic and a pair of leggings worn with light shoes. His hair was plaited on the sides, and the two braids were swept back and tied together at the back of his head. Glorfindel bade him lift his arms over his head and he slid the tunic off, casting it onto the end of the coverlet. He noticed traces of the old deep gash sustained on the Dagorlad, well-faded on Legolas� body, and he traced the faint line of the scar down Legolas� side to his waist. He gently guided Legolas to lie down upon the bed, where he pulled off his shoes. The golden warrior bent forward over top of the younger Elf and pressed his lips to Legolas� mouth, while his hands busied themselves with the ties of the younger Elf�s leggings. Glorfindel slid these leggings down slowly until they fell from his feet, and then he caressed his lover�s slim hips, while his lips sought the side of Legolas� neck, and he pressed kisses down the length of the smooth flesh to the prince�s shoulder.

Legolas moaned under Glorfindel�s touches. �How can you remain dressed, Glorfindel,� he whispered, �while I lie here naked and aching for you?�

Glorfindel groaned at these plaintive words coming from the prince�s desirable mouth. �Stop, Legolas, or you shall have me finished before I even begin,� he cried. He stood and quickly stripped off his own clothes, all the while staring at the prone form of Legolas on his bed, the prince�s beautiful body well-shaped, and somewhat fuller and stronger than it had been long ago. His arousal was strong and insistent and it excited him to a state of lust that he had long forgotten it was possible to achieve.

�Oh, my love,� he groaned, and when he was naked he threw himself down beside Legolas, covering the young Elf�s body with his powerful one. Glorfindel was slim but muscular, and bigger than Legolas. The warrior pressed kisses to the younger Elf�s chest, alternately pinching and licking his tender pink nipples as he lowered his face down the length of Legolas� body.

When Glorfindel came to the straight, erect evidence of Legolas� desire for him, the warrior paused to admire its length and form, while running his hands along the grooves on either side of Legolas� belly. Legolas groaned under these touches, placing his hands over top of Glorfindel�s, and moving the older Elf�s fingers toward his waiting member, aching with desire for the caresses of his long-missed lover.

Glorfindel cupped his hands around the soft sac and hard member and lowered his head, while Legolas fought to stop writhing, clutching the bedcovers in one fist, the other buried in Glorfindel�s unbound mane of hair. Legolas pulled Glorfindel�s head down until the golden Elf�s lips met his seething, throbbing member, and then he cried out: �Ai! Glorfindel, please do not tease me!�

Glorfindel eased Legolas� agony by taking his arousal deeply into his mouth, and with tender caresses, brought him to climax. Legolas spent himself while crying his lover�s name, both hands now in Glorfindel�s hair, relishing the feel of the golden Elf�s stiff locks in his hands and his gentle mouth on his hardness.

Raising his head when Legolas was fully sated, Glorfindel�s breath came hard. �I would like nothing better than to take you and possess you in the way I have desired for years of dreaming, my love. Please turn over.� His turn was urgent.

�Turn over?� asked Legolas, startled.

�Yes,� whispered Glorfindel. �Onto your stomach.�

Legolas complied, but he was curious. �Don�t you want me to give you the same pleasure you gave me?� he asked, reaching for Glorfindel�s own insistent-looking arousal. The warrior groaned at the exquisite feel of the prince�s fingers on his aching flesh.

�Oh, but you will,� he hissed. �Now slide your legs over the side.� And he helped Legolas by grasping him around the hips and pulling him down so that his legs were off the edge of the bed, his feet on the floor. Legolas� firm backside was bent toward Glorfindel, and the warrior admired its roundness, placing his hands on either side of Legolas� hips. He slid one hand over the smooth cheeks and deftly caressed the deep crevice between them. His heart was pounding. Taking a vial of oil from his nightstand, Glorfindel slicked some of the viscous fluid over his shaft and in between Legolas� buttocks. �Ready?� he hissed insistently to the shocked prince, and he inserted two fingers into Legolas� opening. The young Elf cried out sharply.

�What is wrong, my love? Glorfindel asked. �Do you not wish to sheathe me? Have you not waited many years for us to complete our bond?�

�I have waited for you,� the younger Elf replied. �But why are doing this? Have you done it before?�

�Why yes, of course,� Glorfindel blurted out before he realized that this was not the response his lover wished to hear. �Legolas?� asked Glorfindel, after a moment, noting that the young Elf was upset and tears had begun to course down his cheeks. �What is the matter?�

�I�I�you�have taken other lovers. You have learned to do these things�everything�with others,� said Legolas. He rolled over to look at Glorfindel with sad, pleading eyes, and brushed away his tears. �Why did you think to do that to me?�

�What are you talking about? Are you a virgin?� Glorfindel was shocked.

Legolas nodded, his lips trembling. �I thought you were, too. I remember how we were so innocent, just learning how to explore each other the last time we were together. Today you were�are�so different. You have lost your innocence. Why did you do it, Glorfindel?�

�Oh, Gods,� Glorfindel said, his folly becoming agonizingly clear. �You are a virgin. You waited for me.� He reached out to caress Legolas� cheek. �All those years�and you waited for me.�

�Of course I waited,� said Legolas, his eyes brimming with tears. �Because I loved you. But you did not wait for me, I can see. Did you, Glorfindel?�

PART THREE

Glorfindel, flabbergasted and speechless, stared at Legolas, his wide-eyed gaze like that of a deer in the forest, frightened by the appearance of hunters with torches.

�I am leaving you, Glorfindel,� said Legolas, his tone firm. He grabbed for all his scattered articles of clothing and pulled them on. Glorfindel watched the Silvan dress, his admiration of Legolas� lithe form causing him to feel the impending loss with acute horror. He remained unable to speak.

�Have you nothing to say to me, Glorfindel?� asked Legolas, pausing at the door, his hand upon the handle, his tone haughty, and his demeanor stately.

�Do not go, please Legolas,� Glorfindel managed to whisper.

�Those are not the words for which I have been waiting to hear,� said the Wood Elf, and went out, banging the door shut.

Legolas, his face set in a forbidding expression, his jaw alternately clenching and unclenching, stalked through the corridors. His innate sense of direction determined the correct route. His mind was preoccupied. He considered whether he should stay for the planned length of his visit, out of politeness to Lord Elrond and keeping to the established protocol, or whether he should give in to his sense of loathing at this moment, and flee Imladris altogether. He decided that for now, he would go back to his rooms and sulk for the rest of the day, then determine what best to do on the morrow.

Rounding a corner, Legolas almost bumped into Elladan, who was walking in the opposite direction.

�Ah, Legolas!� cried the son of Elrond. �I was on my way to Glorfindel�s rooms. Are you returning from there? Is he in, do you know?�

Bristling with indignation, Legolas said, �He is in, but he is indisposed.� Then he thought he would be bold and asked, his eyes glinting, �Why do you seek him?�

Elladan regarded Legolas with surprise. �Only to enquire if he would care to join me for some knife-play on the practice field,� the son of Elrond replied.

Legolas� eyes shone with keen interest. �If you don�t mind a substitute for Lord Glorfindel, Master Elladan, I would love to engage in knife-play with you. I have missed doing any knife-wielding the past few weeks during my journey here, and am afraid my skills may have become somewhat rusty. My body feels tight and stiff as well.�

�By all means, yes. Please join me,� offered Elladan.

The two Elves turned and headed for the practice field, Elladan allowing Legolas to stop first at his rooms in order to pick up his weapons. When he emerged from the House and found his way to the common, he saw that Elrohir had joined his brother, and the two were talking together, standing by the fence that surrounded the grounds. Legolas almost changed his mind about taking part in the knife practice, but thought better of it. He thought his pent-up aggression might be better assuaged by engaging in some knife-play, and so he put on an expression of good cheer, determined to behave in a dignified manner so as to reflect well upon his house, and not cause any humiliation for his father, King Thranduil, whom he had come to love and respect since he had gotten to know him.

They began to practice, Legolas entering the playing field and divesting himself of his leather jerkin and boots. He took off his belt as well and dropped it onto the ground, where it caused a small cloud of dust to rise up and then disperse into the dry air.

�If you are playing barefoot, then I shall as well!� cried Elladan, and began to unbuckle his footwear.

�Don�t, brother!� Elrohir called from his position atop the fence. �You are not used to playing barefoot, and it may place you at a disadvantage.�

Elladan gave a derisive snort aimed at his twin and positioned himself about ten feet away from Legolas, facing him, slightly bent forward at the waist, with his feet spread. They were both right-handed, and each wielded a single knife. Each staring into the others� eyes, they circled for a few seconds, neither making a move to attack. But then Legolas lunged suddenly, taking a tremendous swipe into the air only inches away from Elladan�s chest, with a wide sweep of his arm. His eyes glittered with aggression.

Elladan, not expecting the ferocity of the attack, jumped backward, stepping on an iron sharpening tool that someone had left on the ground, tripped over it, and fell, hitting the wall behind him with a heavy thud. Legolas, feeling badly and wanting to help Elladan immediately, reached forward in another sudden movement.

Elladan, mistaking this action for a second surprise attack�even though Legolas reached out with his empty hand�thrust out with the arm holding his long knife, and cut Legolas across the ribs on his left side. Elrohir cried out, �Ai! No!� and leapt down from the fence, running to the aid of their guest.

Legolas stood still. He was in shock, his arms held away from his sides, and he dropped his knife. Then he placed his right hand over the cut on his side, blood already starting to seep onto his shirt, staining it bright red in an ever-widening circle.

Elrohir reached him just as Elladan got to his feet. �Legolas, I am so sorry,� the fallen twin began to say.

�Never mind that now,� said Elrohir. �Let�s take a look at his wound.� He lifted Legolas� shirt up and bade him raise his arms that he might pull it over his head.

�It was not your fault,� said Legolas through clenched teeth, �but it was kind of you to apologize.�

�This does not look good,� said Elrohir, examining the injury. He ran a finger along the cut line, noting the wound was about seven or eight inches long and gaping. The blood was flowing freely. Perspiration was forming upon Legolas� well-muscled chest, which was rising and falling rapidly as his shallow breathing quickened.

�We should get him to Father,� said Elladan.

�Father is not here,� said Elrohir. �He and Glorfindel have gone on an errand with Lindir.�

�Well, we must take him to the Healing Room,� said Elladan, �and then I will go to find Turaen.�

�Who is Turaen?� asked Legolas.

�He is a healer. Father�s helper,� said Elladan. �Turaen is skilled enough to bandage you properly so that you will not bleed to death, until Father returns and can have a proper look at you.� He gave Legolas a worried smile, his vain attempt at humor falling flat upon his own ears.

Legolas allowed the twins to help him, supporting his weight on either side, his arms draped over their shoulders, and they walked him into the Healing Room not far from the practice field. His wound was bleeding profusely, and he was becoming weak. With his gait unsteady, his legs not able to hold him up any longer, they managed to lead him to a bed and eased him down onto its clean surface. �Can you go quickly, Elrohir, to find Turaen?� asked Elladan, a look of worry creasing his brow.

When Elrohir had departed, Elladan glanced down at the stricken Mirkwood prince. The color had drained from his face, leaving it as pale as unpainted porcelain. �I cannot tell you how terrible I feel about this, Legolas,� Elladan said. His voice was plaintive, distressed. The son of Elrond looked about him at the silent room. There were no other occupants, and all twelve of the beds were in pristine condition, their white sheets tucked smoothly into place, the curtains that hung between each bed pulled back, the bedside tables each furnished exactly the same: with a water-pitcher that had been freshly filled that morning, a glass, a small white enameled basin, and a stack of clean white linen cloths.

Legolas licked his dry lips and looked up at Elladan. His eyes were glazed. �Please do not blame yourself,� he said thickly. He swallowed hard and patted Elladan�s arm, the touch of his hand as light as a leaf before it dropped limply beside him once again.

Elladan grabbed the pitcher of water and poured some into the basin and filled the glass. He sat beside Legolas and peeling the wadded-up, blood-soaked shirt away from his side, he looked at the wound. He could see that it was deep and in need of stitches. Legolas was losing a great deal of blood. Elladan took some dry linens and pressed them to the cut. �Here,� he said to the prince. �Hold this in place and put as much pressure on it as you can.� Then he held Legolas� head propped on his arm and lifted the water glass to the prince�s dry lips. The Mirkwood Elf took a few sips of water and sighed, dropping his head back to lean heavily upon Elladan�s arm. He closed his eyes.

�Where is that damned healer?� thought Elladan, beginning to get worried. He set Legolas� head down gently upon the flat pillow, got up and crossed to the doorway. Feeling much relieved, he could see Elrohir arriving with Turaen, a smallish Elf of Sindarin origin, with a benign, friendly countenance.

�Where is the patient?� the healer asked cheerfully, stepping over the threshold. Elladan gave him an exasperated glance and indicated the only occupant of the room.

�Ah,� said Turaen, and quickly made his way to the stricken Elf�s side. �Oh, my,� he clucked, peeling away the linen cloth that Legolas held against his ribs, removing the hand clutched tightly to the wound as Elladan had instructed him. It took some exertion from the healer to pry it off. The blood was soaking the bedsheets beneath Legolas, coursing from the gaping cut in bright red rivulets.

The twins stared in fascination at the profusion of blood, and at the pale skin of the archer, almost as white as the sheets upon which he lay. His flaxen hair was spread across the pillow, and the only clothing he wore, his pale grey breeches, seemed almost dark compared to the light color of the rest of him.

Turaen opened the drawer of the bedside stand and removed some suturing equipment: small forceps, a pair of scissor-like needle holders, and a tiny, curved silver needle with a string of catgut thread attached. He also took out a small vial of fluid and a glass-bottomed syringe.

�What is that for?� asked Legolas, his eyes having flown wide open at the shocking touch of cold water against the stinging throb of his wound. Elladan was washing the gaping cut, the enamel basin held against the prince�s ribs, catching the blood and water as he let the cool liquid squeezed from the cloth course over the wound and flow down into the bowl.

�It is a combination of antiseptic and desensitizer,� said Turaen. �Once I inject it into the wound, you will not feel so much pain from the stitching.�

�I can stand pain,� said Legolas, gritting his teeth.

�I have no doubt,� said the healer, and jabbed the needle directly into the gaping recess of the wound, injecting the fluid right into the cavity.

Legolas felt instant relief and sighed, relaxing his body with the welcome cessation of pain.

Turaen went to work and deftly closed the wound, stitching accurately and rapidly. �Look at that, Legolas,� said Elladan. �You have twenty-six stitches. That is quite a few.� The Mirkwood prince smiled up at him.

�My goodness, but he is lovely,� thought Elladan, staring at the stricken archer. �Glorfindel is a lucky Elf.�

Turaen told Legolas that he could return to his rooms and the wound should heal quickly. He needed to return in a week�s time for the stitches to be removed, unless he had any further problems with it. Legolas thanked him and the twins helped him back to his room and put him to bed.

Legolas� room was lavishly decorated in shades of green. The walls were hung with pastoral tapestries and the room�s many columns were draped with strands of vines bearing tiny candles. A light breeze blew the floor-length window curtains inward, causing the candlelight to flicker. Scattered rugs woven of grass covered the floor, which was tiled in warm clay.

The Mirkwood prince lay in his huge canopy bed and drifted between sleep and wakefulness. His thoughts turned to the time he had spent with Glorfindel when they had been traveling to the Havens of Lindon, trying to discover Lemberas� origins. �That was the best time of my life,� he thought sadly. �It meant everything to me, but it seems to have meant very little to him.�

Later that evening, the Mirkwood Elf was surprised by a knock on his door, and he tried to raise himself but was too weak to get up and open it. �Come in!� he cried. It was Turaen, who realized he had not given Legolas instructions on wound care, and had come to do so. He entered the room at Legolas� bidding and sat down in a chair.

After having instructed the prince on how to keep the wound clean and open to the air to promote healing, he stared at Legolas with an expression of concern. �Forgive me for being bold,� he said, �but I notice that you look depressed, and I would like to offer my advice. I believe it will enable your emotions to heal as quickly as will your body.�

Legolas looked at Turaen suspiciously. �What is your meaning?� he asked.

�I know the story of Lord Glorfindel and yourself,� the healer said. A frown of displeasure appeared upon the prince�s face.

�Before you tell me to mind my own business, hear me out,� said Turaen. �You may as well forget about our heroic warrior, the Golden Elf who can do no wrong,� said Turaen with a curious, sarcastic bitterness. �You live far away in a remote realm,� he continued. �You do not know what goes on here. Lord Glorfindel may keep you as a tasty morsel to enjoy once in a while as a treat, but his main menu consists of one delectable dish named Elrohir.�

Legolas gasped and jumped out of bed. �I know not why you would be possessed of such malice after treating me so kindly early on, but please leave before I am forced to throw you out,� he said, seething with cold anger, despite wincing slightly from pain, his hand flying to the wound on his side.

�Do you not believe me?� asked Turaen, rising to his feet. �Master Elrohir spent last night in Lord Glorfindel�s bed. They were seen by several servants. They did not try to hide their union, even arriving at breakfast together this morning.�

�You lie!� cried Legolas. �Now get out!�

�I do not lie,� said Turaen, moving slowly to the door. �I am just as hurt as you are. I have loved Elrohir all of my life, and to know that he is Lord Glorfindel�s occasional lover has broken my heart. Why do you not ask the Balrog-slayer himself if it is true? I asked Elrohir, and he admitted that they slept together last night. You would do well to forget about your one-time lover,� said Turaen, as he made his way to the door. �And I shall try to forget I ever loved the son of Elrond.� He gave Legolas a look of regret as he let himself out.

Legolas sat down heavily upon his bed, his forehead creased with worry and nausea. After a few minutes he rose, and began to pack his belongings in his traveling satchel. He was interrupted by another knock at the door. Exasperated, he went to open it and was surprised to see that it was Elladan this time. �May I come in?� asked Elrohir�s twin.

Wordlessly, Legolas indicated to do so with a half-hearted sweep of his arm. �What are you doing?� asked Elladan, noticing the prince�s half-packed satchel and his weapons spread on top of his bed.

�I am getting ready to leave Imladris,� said Legolas, his tone flat.

�Why?� Elladan was shocked. �You cannot leave now, with a freshly stitched wound and after the blood loss you have sustained.�

Legolas said nothing.

�Why have you decided to go now?� asked Elladan.

Legolas stared hard at him. �Why are you here?� he asked. �To spew some more vitriol upon me about your brother and Glorfindel?�

�What?� cried Elladan. �What are you talking about? No, I came to see how you were feeling, and also to apologize again for what I have done to you. That I should have so severely wounded a prince from one of our few Elven kingdoms and a guest in our home, is of great embarrassment and shame to me. I am so sorry, Legolas.�

Legolas looked stricken with guilt. �Oh no, it is I who am sorry!� he cried. �What you did was an accident. You may be the one truly noble person I have spoken with today, and I have been unforgivably rude to you. Please forgive me.� He rubbed an agitated hand across his brow.

�Legolas, why are you so upset?� asked Elladan. �So upset that you would leave Imladris before you are healed?�

Legolas sighed and sat down on his bed. He swept aside his array of weapons and patted the coverlet next to him, inviting Elladan to sit down. He looked Elrond�s son full in the face with eyes wide, his expression one of placid resolve. �I may as well tell you the whole story,� he said. �If you have the time to listen.�

Elladan placed a comforting arm around Legolas� shoulders. �I have the time,� he said.

Legolas then poured out the story of himself and Glorfindel, from when they first met upon the battle plain of Dagorlad until the present day when the prince had just discovered Glorfindel�s affair with Elrohir. He told Elrond�s son about his feelings for the golden warrior and how he had been disappointed.

�Oh, no,� said Elladan. �I am sure that is not the case, and that Turaen was mistaken somehow. I am sure that Elrohir and Glorfindel are not at all involved with each other.�

�I would like to believe that you are the one honest person that I can trust in Imladris,� said Legolas. �Are you telling me the truth?�

Elladan looked at him closely. �Well,� he said, hesitating. �It is true that Elrohir and Glorfindel were involved many years ago. But it was not a serious love affair, and they have long since parted. But I do not know the reason for my brother to have slept with Glorfindel last night.�

�Oh, I do,� said Legolas. �Elrohir is devastatingly attractive. There is no Elf alive who would not wish your twin to warm his bed at night.� Shocked by his own words, Legolas clapped a hand over his mouth.

Elladan stared at the prince with an expression of surprise. Finally, he said, �Oh,� and cleared his throat.

Legolas blushed, his cheeks turning pink in his otherwise pale face. �I should not have said that,� he remarked.

Elladan shifted his position on the bed. �I think you should stay, Legolas,� he said, changing the subject. �Please think more upon it. I shall go and speak to my brother, and I think it would be a good idea if he and I went away for a while. You and Glorfindel need to talk seriously. I believe that you each have profound feelings for the other which you need to resolve.�

Legolas stared at Elrond�s son and moved closer beside him. �No, please don�t go, Elladan,� said the prince, and leaned his face toward him. The prince pressed his lips upon Elladan�s and kissed him hard, bestowing as much passion and excitement as he could muster upon the soft, full lips of Elrohir�s twin.

Elladan drew back in shock. �No, Legolas,� he said. �Do not do this.�

�Why? Are you not feeling that you would like to kiss me?� whispered Legolas, caressing Elladan�s shoulder with a sensuous hand.

�Oh Gods, yes,� Elladan whispered back, trembling and touching the side of Legolas� face. �But our feelings are not genuine. This is merely an attraction between two people who feel lust for each other. We can appreciate each other�s beauty, and share pity between us, but it is not love that we feel, and for us to make love would be wrong. I know from what you have told me that you love Glorfindel. I cannot let you do this, as much as the idea of lying with you is most tempting to me.�

Legolas sighed and drew back. �I was right about one thing,� he said.

�What is that?� asked Elladan.

�You are the most noble Elf that I know in Imladris,� said Legolas, giving him his most dazzling smile.

Elladan smiled back, and patted Legolas� knee. Then he rose. �I shall leave you now,� he said. �And go to speak with my brother. If Glorfindel and Father have returned, I shall send the Balrog-slayer to speak with you. I think the two of you need to talk through this whole business between you.�

Legolas smiled sadly and nodded, and Elladan left the room.

A few days later and still recovering from his wound, Legolas packed his belongings, slipped quietly out and tiptoed down the corridor upon silent feet. On his pillow he had left a sheet of parchment, a note for Elladan, asking him to make Legolas� apologies to Elrond. Giving the stablehand on night duty a gold coin after eliciting a promise that he would not divulge a word to anyone that the prince from Mirkwood had come to get his horse, he quickly saddled his mare. He then left Rivendell, urging his white steed into a gentle trot toward the way home. He looked back once at the Homely House and then slipped, silent as a sylph, into the shadows beyond the big gates.

He followed the Anduin along the flood plain for many days, keeping to the trees at night and sleeping among their limbs and branches. He had long to ponder upon the incongruity of love, and its many elements, and what it meant for Elves. All the long years of their lives, it was difficult for two Elvish lovers to stay together when their lives sometimes did not fit with each other in an even flowing like that of the river. �The river flows in one direction always,� he thought, after following the Anduin for day after day of monotonous sameness. �But the lives of Elves do not. I suppose I should be happy and thankful that Glorfindel and I shared the time that we did, when he first found me and he and I were of the same innocence. Well,� he thought ruefully, �maybe not the same, but we were both innocents.� He sighed at the recollection. �Perhaps I should not fault him for succumbing to temptation. The sons of Elrond are comely indeed, and pleasant company as well. If Elladan had not been so noble I may have fallen into the draw of his charm myself.�

Legolas was shaken out of his reverie by a sudden rustling noise. He looked over his shoulder. He was traveling through a wooded area on the edge of the plain, east of the Misty Mountains. He had not yet come to the mountain pass that would take him through the rocky range to the other side and hence homeward. He had been traveling for many days without trouble, and thought that perhaps he had crossed paths with a hunter or trapper. Ever wary, even though these were relatively peaceful times, Legolas leapt from his horse�s back into the trees, sending the animal away to find its own shelter, and hiding himself among the tree�s leaves and branches. He peered toward the source of the noise. Even though there had not been many Orcs about for hundreds of years, they still existed, roaming about the lands in small bands, and one had to be wary. Orcs had killed Isildur, after all, only five hundred years ago, therefore one could not be complacent and assume that to travel about safely was always going to be possible.

Legolas stayed in the tree for many minutes without hearing further noise, nor spying anyone or anything. He whistled softly for his horse and soon he saw it coming through the trees toward him at a slow canter. Suddenly a volley of thick black arrows shot out from some bushes to Legolas� right, and embedded themselves in the horse�s neck and side. The hapless animal grunted helplessly, and fell, thrashing about in agony upon the forest floor. In a moment it was dead. Legolas reached back for his own arrows when an unfortunate accident occurred. Due to his reminiscences and wandering thoughts of late, and the uneventful monotony of his journey thus far, Legolas had not fastened his quiver securely, and he knocked it free from his shoulders. It fell to the ground, breaking some of the branches with a loud rustle of leaves and a clatter of spilled arrows.

That accident had secured his fate, for now the Orcs knew exactly where he was. They poured out of the surrounding shrubbery, shouting and brandishing their crude swords. Two of them ran to pick up his quiver and arrows and began fighting over them, followed by two more who peered up into the tree, trying to locate the being who dropped them, their evil, ugly faces like masks of black terror. They screamed at each other in their halting, guttural black speech, of which Legolas could understand only a few words. He unsheathed his long knife.

The Orcs beneath the tree were joined by several others. The remainder of the group of two dozen had gone to retrieve his fallen horse, and they dragged her carcass into a clearing. Then they set to work building a fire, and some of them began to strip chunks of flesh from the mare�s flanks, which they piled near the fire. Some of the Orcs began fighting among themselves over choice pieces of meat; whether to eat them raw immediately, or wait until they could be cooked.

The Orcs below Legolas� tree began to arm themselves with their crude bows and aimed them upward toward him. �Come down,� one of them hissed in his black tongue, �or we will shoot you.�

Feeling that he would be overpowered and surely killed otherwise if he did not comply, Legolas dropped to the ground, landing lightly upon his feet.

�An Elf!� cried one of the Orcs, and stared at him in fear and wonder.

Legolas brandished his long knife, and assessed the predicament in which he found himself. He was ridiculously outnumbered. There were at least twenty of the creatures. He could have defeated half of them easily, but only if he were armed with the advantage of surprise, his arrows, and his long knife. Two of those three conditions were no longer available to him, and he sighed heavily, realizing that his doom was probably upon him.

�Drop it, Elf,� said the largest of the Orcs, probably their leader, and nodded his head roughly toward the knife in Legolas� hand.

Legolas did so, deciding that to capitulate and remain as calm and aloof as possible might arouse their curiosity and perhaps they wouldn�t kill him right away. That would give him time to think of how he might escape. The knife, his last weapon of defence against them, fell to the ground with a clatter as he released it from his grip. The Orcs closed in upon him.

He was grappled on two sides by cruelly rough hands like claws. The loathsome creatures pushed him back against the trunk of the tree and evil, sharp-nailed hands began to paw at him, mauling first his face and hair and then his clothes and his body. They all came to examine him, peering at him in wonder, poking their long nails into his eyes and ears, and leaving scratches upon his smooth skin. Their breath was foul in his fair nostrils.

�I wonder if they know that the first of their kind came from such beings as me,� he thought, unable to decipher most of their grunts and questions as they mumbled them harshly to each other.

They brought out thick ropes made from vines and lashed him to the tree. Then they stripped off his clothing and tossed it into the fire. They brought forth sticks and prodded at his pale flesh with them. One of them had the idea to light the tips of the sticks in the fire and poke him with the hot ends. They had noticed the wound on his left side and the fading scar on his right, curiously poked at these with their charred, filthy sticks and their fingers.

Legolas� mind reeled in shock and horror. He gritted his teeth and put up with their torment and their primitive way of branding him. He vowed that he would not cry out or acknowledge the pain they inflicted.

When they had tired of their game, not receiving any response from the Elf, they sat about the fire and ate the horsemeat they had cut from his butchered mare. He supposed they would eat him next when they ran out of his mare�s meat. Surprisingly, after they had eaten they all lay down to sleep, and after a long series of grunts, burps and other guttural, grating noises, the Orcs became silent as they slept, leaving Legolas languishing against the tree, still bound to it with the strong, indestructible vines. He struggled against their hold for a while, finally having to endure the night, long and miserable, and when the dawn arose, he noticed the gathering of many carrion birds in the sky above.

�They have come for my mare,� he thought in delirium, gazing upward into the orange sky, �and I suppose for me as well. However, I doubt that I shall die as peacefully or as quickly as she did.� He allowed a few tears to escape while his captors were still asleep and could not see his suffering. �Oh, Glorfindel,� he thought. �How different my fate would have been with you by my side. How beautiful were the days we spent together in these same lands, so long ago.�

Thoughts of Glorfindel were interrupted by the waking of the Orcs. One by one, the foul creatures rose and became alert to their surroundings. Their leader waddled over to Legolas to determine if the Elf were dead or alive. He poked at the Elf�s body in several places, examining it, and sidling up next to him, comparing it to his own. Legolas had not been given any food or drink since his capture the day before, and a wave of nausea passed through him with every unwelcome touch of the Orc�s clawed hand. At one point the foul being pressed up against him in a hideous mockery of a couple making love, and Legolas passed out from the stench of the creature and the horror such proximity caused him to feel.

His fainting was merciful, for he was thus not aware of what the Orcs planned to do to him. They untied him from the tree and let his pale, limp body fall to the ground to lie helpless upon the leaves and twigs that carpeted the ground. Then they began to remove their armor and their few scraps of rags that they wore for clothing, and they began to fight each other for position, with the leader having to push back a couple of usurpers who wished to be first in line to have their way with the Elf.

At that moment, three Elf-warriors on horseback suddenly crashed into the clearing, causing the startled Orcs to scatter. The three warriors made short work of slaughtering all the unarmed and unclothed Orcs, who had been caught by surprise before they could commence with their foul plan to rape and possibly murder the unconscious prince of Mirkwood. The furious, terrifying Balrog-slayer who bore down upon them, mounted atop his fiery white stallion, his golden hair billowing behind him like a halo, had no problem dispensing with half of the Orcs himself, cutting them down with glee where he found them. He took the leader, who had been caught in the act of kneeling over Legolas� prone form, and hung him by the neck from a sturdy tree branch, cutting him down at the end by severing his head from his shoulders with a quick slice of his terrible and mighty sword.

Elladan and Elrohir, who came riding behind Glorfindel, took care of the rest, sparing them no mercy, as all the Orcs were slain in a relatively short period of time by the Elves with no injuries sustained by themselves whatsoever. Glorfindel picked up the limp, cold form of his beloved Legolas, and covering him with his own cloak, sat him upon his stallion Asfaloth, and sat behind him, keeping him warm by pressing his own body against the prince�s back, one strong arm held securely around the stricken Elf�s waist. Glorfindel made his way as quickly as possible back to Imladris without stopping, arriving in a few days� time. Elladan and Elrohir followed with Legolas� quiver and bow, knife, and the bridle from his dead horse that they had retrieved to give to him later, when he was recovered.

Once back in the safe confines of Imladris, Glorfindel carried Legolas to his own room rather than the healer�s. Elrond himself saw to the care of the patient, with Glorfindel by his side every second of the time. When his beloved prince awoke, Glorfindel was seated beside him on the bed, holding his small, pale hand in his large, tanned one. Legolas� blue eyes opened and his gaze sought through a maze of film for Glorfindel. When his vision cleared, and he clearly saw the warrior bending over him with a look of love mixed with concern upon his normally strong face, he smiled his bright, dazzling smile.

Legolas felt truly happy in this moment for the first time in many years. He did not need Glorfindel to speak to him in words, for he could tell by the look in the warrior�s eyes and the smoothing of every line in his face that Glorfindel loved him utterly, and that he would do so forever. �Glorfindel,� he whispered, �can you forgive��, and was cut off by the sudden but tender pressing of Glorfindel�s lips upon his own. He reached out to wrap his hands around the warrior�s neck, and returned the kiss with as much fervor as he could muster, for he was still weak.

A few weeks later, Glorfindel walked hand-in-hand with Legolas among the trees of the valley, hidden from view of the House and surrounding buildings by the tall willows and their hanging branches. When they came to a small pond in the dappled sunlight, sitting like a sapphire jewel among the emerald-green of the surrounding lawns, Glorfindel sighed. �What a beautiful spot,� he remarked. They stopped and admired the beauty of the area. Legolas wandered to a grove of trees.

�Yes it is lovely here,� said Legolas, the serenity of his voice masking the turmoil within him. He and Glorfindel had not made love since the golden warrior rescued him from his awful trial among the Orcs where once he had spurned the Golden Elf from becoming his lover because of his feelings of betrayal, he wished now to cement their bond, longing for Glorfindel�s touches with every fiber of his body. �I think this would make a fine location for a lovers� tryst.� He stopped next to a rowan tree and picked a perfectly-shaped leaf from one of its branches.

Glorfindel turned abruptly to stare at Legolas, who stood smiling, twirling the leaf in his hand by the stem, tracing an arc with one pointed toe upon the pristine surface of the lawn. �What did you say?� the warrior asked in surprise.

�Would you make love to me, Glorfindel?� asked Legolas. He smiled sweetly, his lips full and inviting. His blue eyes sparkled in his porcelain face.

Glorfindel crossed the lawn in two steps and gathered Legolas into his arms. He tried to be gentle, but could not help but crush the prince�s mouth beneath his own. His hands fumbled with the clasps on Legolas� elegant brocade robe, and he tore it off. Beneath was a thin silken tunic, and his hands roamed over the slender curves of the younger Elf�s waist and hips before he pulled this up and over the prince�s head and discarded it on top of the robe. When Glorfindel dropped to his knees and untied his soft doeskin leggings, he let them fall to the prince�s ankles. Large hands stroked Legolas� thighs and belly. His lips caressed the beautiful length of the prince�s arousal, tenderly enveloping it in his mouth and then letting it slip from his lips so that he might take his lover in his arms and carry him to the water. He supported the prince�s buttocks with a strong hand while he pulled the leggings off completely, then lifted Legolas and carried him to the pond�s edge, where he sat him down. Legolas splashed his feet happily in the water, kicking ripples out toward the centre, while waiting for Glorfindel to disrobe as quickly as he could.

The Balrog-slayer quickly divested himself of his clothing and stood nude and magnificent before Legolas. His skin was smooth with the sheen of satin, and was tanned a deep, golden color, set off by his gloriously thick mane of golden hair. His piercing blue-grey eyes shone with undeniable love for Legolas, as he gazed longingly at his beloved prince from Mirkwood.

�Ah, Glorfindel, what a sight you are,� said Legolas. �Come to me,� and he stood, opened his arms wide, his erection springing forth with his gesture of welcome. Glorfindel strode to clasp the smaller Elf to his body, claiming the prince�s lips in a furious kiss, their fierce arousals brushing against each other, sending them both into a blazing spiral of passion. Still embracing, they dropped to their knees, their groins grinding together in their lust, their lips bruising each others�. Glorfindel cupped one of Legolas� buttocks in his large hand, squeezing its firm flesh in an eager grasp as he pressed against his lover. Gasping, he broke the kiss and lay down on his back, letting Legolas bend and take his huge, throbbing cock into his tender mouth, sucking it with sweet lips until Glorfindel wanted to scream. One hand clutched the grass, tearing out handfuls of the green blades, while the other wound itself in Legolas� flaxen locks.

When the prince raised his face from Glorfindel�s glistening arousal, he looked at the golden warrior with lust in his blue eyes and whispered, �I want you to take me now, Glorfindel.�

Glorfindel, breathing rapidly, got to his feet and retrieved a vial of scented massage oil from his robes. Turning to Legolas, he placed his hands under the younger Elf�s arms and lifted him. �Let us find a comfortable place where I can make love to you, my sweet beloved,� said the warrior. His appearance showed calmness, yet he was excited internally. Taking his lover�s hand, he led him into the water. He bade Legolas lie down upon the soft soil of the pond�s edge on his stomach, the bottom half of his legs lying in the water.

Glorfindel, cupping the vial in one hand, caressed the smaller Elf�s pale back, buttocks and legs with gentle strokes. His hand slowed when he reached the soft flesh of Legolas� buttocks, his long fingers teasing the cleft between them, sending shivers through the prince�s body. He uncorked the vial and poured a bit of the shimmering liquid into the crevice between Legolas� cheeks. With one large thumb Glorfindel spread it into the deep space, taking care to be gentle when his digit entered the tight passage. With extreme tenderness, the Balrog-slayer, his breathing hard, inserted another finger, carefully scissoring Legolas� passage open.

�How does that feel, my love? Am I hurting you?� Glorfindel asked, leaning forward to nibble the tip of his lover�s ear. Legolas squealed and shivered with pleasure.

�No, it feels wonderful,� he whispered.

Glorfindel�s free hand gently caressing Legolas� back and shoulders, he whispered tender endearments to his lover, his lips brushing the surface of the prince�s shoulder, electrifying the younger Elf�s skin with every word and touch.

Legolas moaned when he felt the penetration of Glorfindel�s fingers moving deeper, and he ached with impatient longing to feel the Balrog-slayer�s magnificent cock inside his tight passage. �Please, please, Glorfindel,� he mewled. �Please take me now.�

�I will take you, my sweet,� whispered the golden Elf. �I will take you deeply and powerfully, as one who loves you.� And he moved his powerful body over top of the younger Elf�s, positioning his rigid cock to dangle above the sweet opening to the prince�s passage, and he slowly, carefully entered its smooth depths.

Legolas yelped at the initial breach, and then sighed, his lithe body shuddering beneath Glorfindel�s as the warrior lowered his powerful, muscular form down upon the petal-soft skin of his lover, his huge cock pushing gently into the firm flesh of the prince.

With his strong hands held against Legolas� belly, he raised the prince�s hips slightly, and began to rock back and forth against the smooth-cheeked backside, thrusting gently but deeply into his warm depths. Legolas sighed and moaned, his body writhing beneath the warrior�s.

�Ai, Gods!� Glorfindel cried, as his thrusts became stronger, and he dropped his head, his thick hair falling over Legolas� back. Legolas moaned at the contrast of the soft, warm hair caressing his skin, and the feeling of being filled by Glorfindel�s rigid thickness.

�I am coming!� Glorfindel cried, his thrusts more rapid. Legolas cried out as his bundle of nerves was pricked over and over by his lover�s hardness, and his vision turned to red-hot fire. He screamed as Glorfindel came, sending jets of hot fluid spurting into the prince�s cavity. �Ai!� cried Glorfindel. �Gods! Legolas!�

Glorfindel lay for a moment beside Legolas, spent and breathing deeply, enjoying the sensation of having fulfilled his dream. He closed his eyes and clasped Legolas� hand, raising it to his lips. �I love you so much,� he said.

Legolas leaned against Glorfindel and stroked his chest, the golden warrior shuddering with pleasure at every pass of his lover�s tender fingers.

�I love you too, with all my heart, Glorfindel,� he whispered. �I knew that you would come to me,� and he pressed his own aching arousal against his warrior�s thigh. �I want to take you as you took me,� he said, grasping Glorfindel�s chin and turning his face so he could look into the warrior�s eyes. �I want that bond between us.�

�Then you shall have it, my little one,� said Glorfindel, reaching down between them to give the prince�s member a few loving strokes. He searched for the vial of oil and bade his whimpering lover to get on his knees. He poured some of the liquid into his palm and began to slide it onto Legolas� smooth shaft, caressing the lovely member with gentle, loving touches as he did so.

Then Glorfindel positioned himself on his hands and knees, presenting his muscular backside to Legolas. The young prince placed his hands on Glorfindel�s hips and pressed his cock against the cleft. Then he remembered to use his fingers first, and he oiled them, and inserted two at once into the warrior�s opening. He was surprised at how tight it was, and Glorfindel moaned and clutched at his own newly burgeoning erection as Legolas� fingers opened him wide.

The prince pointed his member at Glorfindel�s opening and pushed its length slowly into the warm passage. He groaned, his fingers digging into Glorfindel�s hips as he breached the warrior�s walls. Glorfindel moaned as Legolas� thrusts went deeper, and his tender spot was touched over and over by the prince�s sweet stiffness. Then Legolas came in a rush of blinding passion, spending his seed with a lusty cry of, �Ai! Glorfindel!�

Glorfindel groaned and while remaining propped on one hand and both knees, with the other stroking his newly-sprung erection, he brought himself to a second completion, spilling his fluids onto the grass in a pearly stream. Then the two lovers swam and cleaned themselves in the water.

Exhausted and spent, the two happy lovers lay side by side, naked in the sun, Legolas� head resting against Glorfindel�s shoulder, his gentle fingers tracing patterns along the Balrog-slayer�s side.

�Will you come to live with me here, where we can be together forever?� asked Glorfindel, his voice soft, a dreamy look softening his handsome features.

�I would love to live here in this valley with you,� said Legolas, �but I have left unfinished tasks at home. And there is still much I must learn about my past.�

�Do you regret that your memory has never returned?� asked Glorfindel.

�No,� replied Legolas, treating Glorfindel to a glimpse of his dazzling smile. �For I would rather have only new memories of you to grace my thoughts.�

Glorfindel sighed and took Legolas� hands in his. �I will always stay by your side from now on to protect you,� he said. �Wherever you may travel.�

When the sun set, bringing the glorious day to an end, the two lovers dressed themselves, and hand-in-hand, returned to Elrond�s House.

The End