Children of the Sun

Summary: After an accident Glorfindel is forced to recall his past. Will he ever be able to enjoy the bliss of love?

Author's Note: The Title of the story, as well as the legend Erestor tells his pupils is taken from �The Symposium� by the Greek philosopher Plato (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Symposium_ (Plato_dialogue) wonderfully brought to vision in Stephen Trask�s queer musical �Hedwig and the Angry Inch�. C.3.3 has been the prison number of Oscar Wilde.

Dedicated to all the Children of the Sun and the Earth, who had and still have to suffer from persecution and discrimination.

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His heart humming with joy Erestor quickly made his way to the clear rivulet. Finally, finally he would be allowed to show his golden warrior just how much he loved him. A whole week of solitude Lord Elrond had granted them; even permitting them access to his own place of repose after the Balrog Slayer at the very last had been able to overcome his numbing reluctance and fear. Reluctance and fear wrought upon him by soul searing terrors of the past.�

After arriving in the secluded glade the advisor had volunteered to get some buckets of fresh water while Glorfindel was about to tend to the fireside in the comfortable wooden hut. His mind still filled with all the pleasures he wanted to inflict upon his lover Erestor never noticed the triangular head dashing towards him from the waterside. He never heard the angry hiss, never felt the sharp teeth break through the skin of his arm, never even noticed his own strangled cry as an icy hand squeezed his heart in a constricting grip and the world faded in front of his eyes.�

Glorfindel was just about to kindle the fire when his world was shattered by an almost inaudible scream, more to be felt deep inside his soul than heard with his ears.� His mind nearly torn asunder with terror he rushed out of the cottage only to see his lover�s limp form drop to earth in a lifeless heap. �

�No, oh sweet Valar, no, not him, not again! Why, why are you so cruel, taking everyone I dare to love?��

He didn�t know if he cried out aloud or if only his soul screamed in agony as he fell to his knees beside the unmoving body. Almost instantly he noticed the two angry red points gleaming like evil eyes in the swollen arm. Tears streamed out of his eyes, blurring his vision as with almost numb fingers he reached out to feel for his lover�s pulse. After an eternity of a moment in which his own heartbeat threatened to cease he felt the imperceptible pulsating under his fingertips, slow faint and unsteady, but undeniably the drumbeat of life. �

No time now for tears, no time for a blurred vision. Maybe, just maybe there was a chance, maybe not everything was lost. Keep the venom from flooding the whole body; drag it out, drag it out. Steady now hands, nimble now fingers. The warrior�s hands worked of their own volition, binding, cutting, not too deep, oh Valar, not too deep, but deep enough, while his soul went out in search for the fleeting self of his beloved.�

Pain, excruciating pain, pain and emptiness and coldness, deep bone chilling frost; slowly Erestor opened his eyes and saw � nothing. Gray it was, gray, misty and oh so cold and there was throbbing ache surging through his whole being. Desperately the advisor tried to look around to get at least an idea of his whereabouts. Gray nothingness as far as he could see, a plain filled with frosty mist and not one single point to rest his eyes upon, to get even a minimum sense of direction. �

But there, fare in the distance, wasn�t there a light, blinking in warm welcome, beckoning to him. He�d find shelter, would be save, if he only could manage to get there. Slowly dragging his feet through the syrupy molasses of the mist Erestor started to move, fiery knives cutting through his body with every step. After an infinity of walking the mist seemed to diminish, the flaring pain to lessen and his movements quickened to an almost normal pace as the faint glimmer steadily grew into a shining doorway, opened in welcome for him, promising the peaceful safety of forgetfulness. Just some more steps and he would finally be able to grant his painstricken self it�s much needed rest.�

All of a sudden something caused the dark haired elf to cease his stumbling progress. A whisper, almost inaudible like the gentle breeze of air in the first promise of spring softly traced his awareness. But from the wrong direction it derived, not from the gleaming entry from where a phrase of greeting would be expected, but out of the nothingness of the empty plain it grew, calling out through the mist to gain his attention. And in this it succeeded. Erestor strained his hearing, desperate to get the meaning of the indistinct words putting all of his willpower in it as if his life would be dependent on the vague murmuring. His life � dependent � life��

�Erestor, beloved, come back to me! By the force of my life I beg you, come back! By the power of our shared love I beg you, come back! Don�t leave me in despair; don�t make me have to follow you. By the power of love I beseech you, come back to me, come back!��

Erestor�s whole being swayed under the encumbrance of decision. Something deep within him recognized the words, recognized the voice. Something deep within him remembered. But still there was the door of light invitingly opened for him beckoning to him with his promise of final peace. No more pain, no more sorrows, no more the heavy burden of duty weighting down his shoulders; only sweet oblivion and peaceful rest. No more � life? � hope?, no more � love?�

Sobbing with the effort of dragging his feet through the quicksand of already thickening fog Erestor cast one last longing glance at the alluring entrance to quietude as he turned around and crawled at a steady pace back towards pain, towards life, towards love.�

His face drowned in tears, in equal measure caused by anguish and by relief, Glorfindel listened to the shallow gusts of breath emerging from his beloved�s breast.� .Everything that could be done he�d done and now that his lover was laid securely on the comfortable bed, at the very last reconnected with his soul, time had come to let the anguish wash over him, time to let his tears flow, mourning what should have been. This was so wrong, everything was so very wrong, nothing like it ought to be. The still figure on the vast bed, the bed that should have been the witness of the final consumption of their love, not of their struggle against demise, should be smiling at him, eyes bright with passion and love. �

Was it true then that he was cursed by the Valar, cursed to be a menace to everyone he dared to love? Was it true that he was an abomination, despised by the Valar themselves, like he�d been told thousands of times in a life he had thought to be a thing of the past. But no, it couldn�t be true for Erestor, sweet Erestor loved him back, he�d even been able to unban him from the grip of death calling upon the power of their love, ought this not to be proof enough of the rightness of� their shared affection? �

The ghost of a smile shining through is tears the blonde warrior let his gaze wander fondly over his lover. A gush of relief bloomed in his heart when he found the breathing less labored and the heartbeat drumming stronger and less uneven under his searching fingers. Now his weeping was almost purely out of joy, for his Erestor would live. Erestor the wise adviser who had finally been able to tell him a proper name for the likes of him. As �Children of the Sun� he had spoken of males longing to share themselves with other males and that there was neither shame nor blame in anything concerning true love. �Children of the Sun� after an old legend, a legend rumored to be from the beginning of time, but nevertheless unheard of in ancient Gondolin whose inhabitants only had terms of loathing and disgrace thrown at him in hatred revulsion.�

Ah Gondolin, memories he desperately had tried to suppress floated to his mind with torturing clarity, memories stirred up from the deepest vaults of his consciousness by the one thing he couldn�t bring himself to accomplish when he treated his beloved�s wounds. Only for the instant of a moment he�d thought about it and it even wasn�t recommended anymore but this tiny shard of a second when he had considered burning the snake�s venom out of his lover�s body with red hot iron had brought back the whole unwanted load of tantalizing remembrance, the stench of scorched flesh still too rancid in his nostrils and the agonizing screams still too loud in his ears even after uncountable centuries of two lifespans. Painstricken face buried deep in his hands Glorfindel�s body shook in sobbing seizures as nightmarish wraiths of times long bygone hunted through is mind�

**********~~~~~~~~~~~***********�

His breast swelled with pride the young Lord of the Golden Flower listened to the ardent speech with which

King Turgon welcomed the young warriors into his service. With trembling lips he swore his oath to protect the sacred ways of the Valar, the inviolability of the family and the safety of fair Gondolin, if need be, even with his life. With deep conviction he swore to keep himself clean from all aberrations, be they of the body or of the mind and to be a warrior at whom people would look up with love and respect, never to do aught that would disgrace the Hidden City for now and all time to come. Little did he know then at what costs these words would come to him, little did he know how the flow of his life would be twisted and sundered as if cursed by the Valar themselves. And a curse it was, at least by the way king Turgon�s steadfast hand led his people�s thinking and motivation.

It wasn�t quite long after this fateful oath that Glorfindel noticed that something was direly amiss. He listened to his comrades� banter, heard them bragging over their encounters with maidens, innocent how they might be, how a fair elleth had looked and smiled at them, how she had talked, how sweet the curve of her cheek was rounded and how the sun played in her hair. To all this he listened, never taking part in the conversation. For Glorfindel really liked ellith, liked them as good and trustful friends, but never had he felt anything for them beyond mere friendship. Never had any of them caused his heartbeat to quicken or his cheeks to flush, nor had he felt any other reaction of his body. Surly something was terribly, terribly wrong with him.�

The dread of wrongness increased to horrendous certainty when he first felt the quickening of his heart while in the common bath with his fellows after a training session. The way the water glinted on their muscular bodies, the way they chased one another good naturedly without any dissolute thoughts, droplets of water streaming from their wet hairs over broad shoulders and backs down narrow�..NOOO. Aghast with himself, with his fiercely pounding heart the young warrior immerged deep into the water desperately trying to hide the shameful betrayal of his flesh. Frantically he prayed to the Valar for this to be a one-time aberration, for it never to happen again and for his life to be ordinary like everyone else�s.�

Only when the bathing chambers were empty for a long time did he dare to come out of the water, convinced that every single one would notice the appealing state of his body. Still trusting deep in his heart that the Valar had listened to his prayer and everything would be mended on the morrow he reached his chambers and at once fell in an exhausted sleep.�

But the Valar had chosen to be deaf or, out of a strange and incomprehensible sense of humor only Valar are capable of, they wanted to condemn the young lord, who had done nothing at all to evoke their wrath, to an existence in misery and shame. For in this very same night all the images Glorfindel had so bravely banned from his mind kept creeping back into his dreams. All those gorgeous bodies, gleaming skin, broad shoulders, narrow waists and rounded buttocks, bodies moving with exquisite grace while rivulets of water slowly run down onto the most hidden and most unspeakable places, no elf was allowed to even think of if they were not his own, danced through his nightly visions in a most sensual ballet.�

With a strangled cry the goldenhaired warrior awoke, his feet dangled in soiled sheets, hot stickiness still drying on his belly. A deep sense of loss overcame his mind as his mouth wailed out his despair in heart wrenching sobs. There was no chance left to turn away from the outrageous truth. He was an abomination, a disgrace to the Hidden City, a traitor to all the things Gondolin held sacred, some filth even the Valar looked upon with revulsion, he had become everything he had sworn a holy oath to protect his city from and he knew what his punishment would be if his monstrosity ever happened to be found out.�

From then on Glorfindel shied away from all kinds of societal relations, leading his life hidden in segregation. He worked hard on the training fields, obstinate to drive his body to an almost permanent state of over-exhaustion, thus rendering it unable to reveal any kind of unsolicited reactions. He took to the baths only when all his comrades had left, never indulging in their conjointly dealings. Whenever it wasn�t possible for him to skip the common meals he never dared to lift his eyes from his plate, fearful that his gaze would linger on a beautiful face or some luscious lips, giving away his hideous secret. He even ceased his innocuous friendships with the ellith, convinced that they instinctively would recognize his � otherness.�

Thus putting all his strength into his chosen profession Glorfindel quickly made himself renown as one of the most bold and respectable warriors. With time he even got along with the dread of being on patrol, keeping strictly to his orders and never admitting himself into camaraderie more than required by duty. No wonder it was that in almost no time he climbed up the ladder of ranks, his secluded life only adding to his honorable reputation. The people of Gondolin felt save knowing themselves protected by a warrior as fierce as the Lord of the Golden Flower, little did they know that the one thing he wanted to protect them from at the most was his own damnable self. Centuries went on like this and all seemed to be in quiet prosper for the Golden one, until -. �

For quite some time Glorfindel didn�t even notice the young warrior who had started to train under his command. Just another handsome face, another gorgeous body to ignore, another set of stunning eyes gazing at him in awestruck admiration. He was used to this by now, used to see them as what they were, new recruits he had to train into strong warriors. It had worked well for him, worked well for centuries on end and he surly wasn�t about to alter anything about it. As Second in Command of the King�s Personal Guard he was highly respected and had even gained the trust and confidence of king Turgon himself. �

So it wasn�t until some month that he noticed that the light in the eyes of a certain young one had started to fade, that his face had paled into an expression of self-hatred repulsion. Only when their eyes met by utter chance a sudden flash of � something enlightened the dull eyes, a sudden sparkle at once suppressed by a look of hunted mortification. A sequence of symptoms Glorfindel only knew all too well. Could it be that he wasn�t the only one suffering under the curse of the Valar? Could there really be another one? He started to watch more closely over young D�nen. The way he kept to himself, the way he avoided his comrades, there was no doubt, the young elf was fighting the same demons as he himself and the Golden Warrior�s heart reached out to his forlorn trainee. He desperately longed for contact with the young one, to offer him the guidance and understanding he so direly would have needed at the time of his own struggle. Only the purest and most honorable motives were on Glorfindel�s mind, not even a single thought of depravity crossing his mind, when he slowly approached D�nen to take him under his own personal tutelage.�

No one seemed to question that the Second of the Guard took the promising young recruit under his personal wing, sparring with him after the official training sessions and discussing matters of warfare and strategy, and soon friendship blossomed between the two of them. It didn�t take long for Glorfindel to invite his friend to his quarters one day after training, thus starting a routine of evenings spent with idle conversation and the sharing of deep thoughts. �

But he never dared to approach the matter why he had sought out D�nen at the first place, never dared to mention anything that couldn�t have been spoken of even at the most crowded marketplace. With time Glorfindel felt the first tendrils of closeness warm his lonely heart, a comfort he hadn�t known for himself since the long passed days of his childhood. A painful comfort for the light in D�nen�s eyes shone brighter than ever in his presence and the Golden One had to try hard to fight back the traps of unclean longing, a longing he never would give in to, never wanting anything else than to spare his young friend from a life of miserable solitude.� However even if they both managed to keep a strong hold on their mutual desires, never even voicing them, never daring to overstep their borders, their souls had recognized one another as what they truly were.�

Then one evening when they sat in their usual conservation they both happened to reach out for the bottle of wine and their fingers touched on the cool glass. A red-hot sparkle flashed between their joined digits and surged fiery through their whole bodies. Bristling energy seemed to float the room making them shiver with the intensity of it. Glorfindel looked up, startled, and found himself lost in the depths of ocean-blue eyes. Unable to avoid his gaze he swallowed, still trying to restrain his flaming desire, even as his unruly hand reached out to trace over silky strands of corn-colored hair to the soft skin of a blushed cheek. D�nen couldn�t stifle the moan emerging his throat when he felt soft fingers ghosting over his skin in fulfillment of his most secret dreams. The needful sound proofed to be Glorfindel�s undoing. With an almost feral groan he lunged himself onto his � lover? -� capturing his lips with his own. With desperate ardor the young elf answered the kiss, their tongues dancing around one another, hands gripping shoulders and waists, hanging on for dear life and their bodies rubbed together, desperate for contact even through layers of cloth. Hard groin pressed against hard groin in ever-increasing frenzy as the tension of their bodies became sheer unbearable until they both stiffened at the same time, crying out their combined release in one voice.�

Shaking with the intensity of their climax they still clung together when the monstrosity of their doing hit them. With a horrified cry Glorfindel tore himself free, racing to the farthest corner of the room his soul torn asunder with shame over his weakness. Never, never ever should this have happened and never ever would he allow it to happen again. All he wanted was to hide away in a dark place, hide from himself and his abnormity, hide away and give himself over to a death of� self-hatred humiliation. �

The heartbroken sobs from his lover brought the mighty warrior back to painful reality. No time now to hide away in shame, no time for the comfort of death, in no way could he leave the young one like this, it had been his fault, his own damnable weakness having brought this menace over them and he would take on to the responsibility. On shaking legs he crossed the room back to the devastated young elf burring his panic-stricken� face on his breast in a tender embrace. Bitter tears streamed down from both of their eyes mingling their wetness on their skin. With a broken voice the Golden Warrior murmured soothing endearments into his lover�s ears, words of love and devotion, words of safety, which rung wrong in his ears even as they escaped his trembling lips. Crying they whispered of the horrendous sin they both had committed, promising one another to never let such an ignominy pass between them ever again. However even as vows of chastity emitted their mouth hands again started to roam lovingly over shoulders and backs, even as the last murmured words still reverberated in their ears their lips searched out for one another in tender kisses and deep in their hearts they recognized with painful awareness that they were lost, utterly and completely lost and never ever would be able to keep apart.�

Thus a new life begun for the Lord of the Golden Flower, a life of stealth and hidden shame. They did well in the light of day, D�nen and he, did well under the scrutinizing eyes of Gondolin, never acting other than expected from warriors, never giving away their hideous secret. The inhabitants of the Hidden City looked fondly at their formerly� solitary protector who finally seemed to have opened up to friendship and at the young warrior, thriving under his mentorship. �

Only in the security of Glorfindel�s quarters did they allow passion to overtake their minds. Evening after evening the rooms were filled with the sweet sounds of kisses, tender and ardent at the same time, filled with passionate moans and murmured endearments, time and again mingled with a hoarse shout of blissful relief. But never they went beyond kisses and touches, freely placed on every inch of exposed skin, never they dared to take the last, the most despicable step. With time they settled into a sort of routine, respectable and dutiful warriors at day and passionate lovers at night and slowly they started to belief that they could be able to life on like this forever.�

It was one of the last of D�nen�s days as a recruit when he finally got his decree of promotion. He was ordered into the King�s Personal Guard, would serve directly under Glorfindel�s command.� Surely his lover had pulled some strings to make this possible for him, to enable them to share more time together. Almost out of his head with joy the young elf went in search for his mentor, almost jumping at him when he finally found him, touching his lips in a thankful kiss. A little peck but with all the love and devotion flowing into the short contact. Only when he felt the warrior stiffen in panic did D�nen realize what he had done. He had kissed his lover here in open daylight in front of all people, for everyone plain to see.� With a scream of utter terror he turned round fleeing the training-fields in absolute devastation, thus making things even worse than they had already been. Still in a daze of shock Glorfindel watched the hastily retreating figure and, his heart heavy with foreboding dread, he dragged his feet towards his rooms.�

In the dark of the night they came for him, three of his subordinates, all of them averting their gazes as they escorted him through the sparely lit streets. In the courtroom he finally met D�nen again, signs of painful interrogation clearly visible on his marred skin With pleading eyes, wide with agony and terror the young warrior looked at the one elf he loved more than his life, the one upon whom with his foolish imprudence he had brought misery and damnation, beseeching him for forgiveness and maybe just one reassuring smile. But Glorfindel was unable to react. Petrified to the very core of his heart by the heartbreaking state he found his lover in he was unable to meet the pleading gaze, unable to tear his eyes away from the angry marks besmirching the adorable body. Biting back a wretched sob he desperately tried to fight back his tears, tears he would never allow any of his comrades to see. Still deep in shock he reacted on pure instinct, an instinct developed to perfection due to many years of self-hatred loneliness, hiding his distraught soul under the unyielding demeanor of the dependable warrior.�

Soon after the first words were spoken it became clear to the Golden Warrior that the whole tribunal was going to be a farce. He had been brought to court only as a witness, never meant to be accused and D�nen was to be left the whole blame. The blame of having seduced� his unsuspecting mentor to his abominable ways, of having betrayed his trust by enticing him to commit the most horrendous transgressions. The mendacity and collusiveness of the whole inquiry shook Glorfindel out of his� horror-struck stupor. In fierce despair he tried to set things right, tried to explain his own flawed weakness, tried to plead his own guilt, his own and his alone. But in vain, every word from his mouth was twisted in its meaning by the auditors; everything he said was used solely to enhance D�nen�s crime.� Not a single trace of suspect was allowed to blemish the reputation of the Lord of the Golden Flower, the most respected warrior in Gondolin. No way the Second in Command of the Royal Guard could be openly involved in scandal. �

Without any heed to Glorfindel�s unwavering explanations of his own failures, D�nen alone was found guilty. He was sentenced to hard labor in the mitril-mines in the slopes of a faraway mountain, a sentence equaling certain death for no elf had ever survived more than just some month in the cold darkness of the mines. But before he was to be sent away the young elf was to be branded with hot iron, thus making his misdemeanor plainly discernible for all to see. �

But even being only a witness the Golden Warrior was condemned as well. Condemned to watch the punishment of his lover, condemned to smell the stench of his scorched flesh, condemned to hear the young elf�s agonizing screams, condemned to see the almost unconscious body being dragged away by unfeeling guards. His inner turmoil hidden behind a mask of stone he watched and his heart turned to stone in this night of unbearable grief.�

The next day Glorfindel was ordered to join the Border Guard, still keeping his rank as Second in Command. King Turgon managed to let it look like a personal sacrifice, keeping his most powerful warrior not for his own safety but putting the protection of his whole realm and all its inhabitants into his reliable hands. But Glorfindel knew that this was meant to penalize him, that the king would never allow an abomination like him to stay in his proximity. He was also well aware of the observant eyes secretly watching over his every step.�

Again the Lord of the Golden Flower took to his seclusive life, even more withdrawn than ever before, clinging strictly to his orders and duties.� Soon he gained the repute of a cold and heartless warrior, cold and heartless but brave and� fierce beyond any measure for he no longer cared for his life having lost any fear of death for once and ever.�

Only in the dark of the night, in the seclusion of his rooms did the Golden Warrior allow himself to mourn his bygone lover. For the lonesomeness was bitter now that he had tasted the sweet tang of the closeness of another�s body and soul. Night after night he cried himself to sleep, tears unworthy of someone of his position, as time and again his memory forced him to relive the nightmares of D�nen�s fate. And again centuries passed.�

For quite some time Glorfindel managed to simply ignore the constant approaches of one of his young warriors. Every time an errant was to be run, every time a voluntary was needed for what-ever, Himilin was at his side, eyes sparkling with life and lips curled in an unceasing smile. For quite some time Glorfindel managed to pay no heed although the mindful attentiveness of his subaltern heavily tore at the edges of his awareness. Only when he noticed his instructions to be carried out with more enthusiasm than required by duty, only when little gifts of advertence, a morsel of his favorite food here, a unasked for polished pair of boots there, always accompanied by Himilin�s smiling face somewhere in the near background, his steadfast resolve started to crumble. Imperceptible� at first but at an ever increasing momentum his demeanor softened against his youthful follower and at a snakes pace a faint shimmer of hope started to sneak back into the Golden One�s heart. Hope that instantly was tarnished by the most dreadful trepidation.�

Vowing to stay unwavering the Lord of the Golden Flower still accomplished to push back Himilin�s increasing advances for several weeks. But the young elf proofed to be steadfast in the pursuit of his purpose and finally Glorfindel found himself unable to resist any longer. Cringing inwardly with anguish he invited his stubborn devotee for a silent walk in the evening to discuss matters in private and set things right between them. Never did he intend to do anything than talk, anything than to make Himilin cease his unwanted affection, but when he felt the energy radiating from the lithe body besides him, when he looked into deep blue eyes shining with love and adoration his heart skipped a beat and his whole resilience faltered. For those were D�nen�s eyes looking longingly at him , D�nen�s mouth smiling at him in a alluring way like he�d never done before. Almost sobbing with restraint emotions he drew his arms around the unresisting body, touching the luscious lips in a tender kiss. After only a slight but promising respond to the kiss Himilin broke free of the embrace� heading home in an unhasty pace and Glorfindel never noticed the triumphant smile on the young warrior�s lips.�

This time they came for him in broad daylight, dragging him through the crowded streets of Gondolin for everyone to see in his shame. Rumors the monstrosity of his misdeed had already been spread� through the city, thus the walk to the courtyard turned out to be a gauntlet with people throwing stones, dirt and garbage at him, spitting on him and calling him the most horrendous names. �

This time Glorfindel was shown no consideration for his reputation and rank. No mercy for a recidivist, the sentence spoken almost before the trial had properly started. This was naught the Golden Warrior hadn�t expected but what came to him as a complete bolt from the blue was Himilin�s accusation. With tearful eyes the young warrior told the court in what despicable ways his superior had tried to seduce him into joining him in his fornications, just like he�d done with his uncle D�nen. Frozen to the very bones with shock by the betrayal from his assumed friend Glorfindel could do nothing to gainsay the perfidious indictment, knowing deep in his soul that he was doomed, unimportant whether he tried anything to justify himself. Thus without any other hearing the verdict was spoken. When the first light of the sun were to touch Gondolin on the morrow he was to be branded with red-hot iron and when the sun rose over the mountains he would be exiled to the mines never to see Gondolin again.� Still in a stunned daze they took him to the damp dungeon, taking away every single of his insignia before stripping him off his fine attire and left him with only the rough grey garb of the convicts, his prison number C.3.3 the only adornment he would be allowed for the rest of his life.� �

In the trancelike state of unnatural calm the lord of the Golden Flower sat in his unlit cell awaiting the execution of his punishment with the dull hopelessness of cattle brought to the slaughterhouse. When he heard the screeching noise of a key opening the heavy door he stood in expectance of his escort. However, he was only brought a last slice of Gondolin bread and a last cup of Gondolin water. At the very moment he reached out for his meager meal the silence of the night was shattered by the uproar of chaos. Bells of alarm thundered their warning through the nightly air, feet were running, hands reaching for weapons, people screaming in panic and the horrified weeping of children � Gondolin was under attack.�

Turning on their heels the wardens rushed out of the dungeon forgetting about their prisoner and the wide open door. Without an instant of a second thought Glorfindel followed, the defense of his city the only thing on his mind. Grabbing the first sword he could lay his hands on he threw himself in the raging heart of the battle. Instinctively he took command like he was used to do and on pure instinct his warriors followed his lead like they were used to do for centuries. But already everything was lost, the Hidden City had fallen and the only thing left to be done was to help its surviving inhabitants to escape to safety. Like a lion the Golden Warrior fought for his people�s safe passage to the mountain caves, like a lion he fought clad in nothing than his prison garb, the number C.3.3 his only shield of protection. Bleeding from uncountable wounds he unwaveringly wielded his sword with tiring arms.� Some more minutes, just some more minutes and the citizens would be safe. When the Balrog descended blowing out his fiery breath against the fugitives Glorfindel roared aloud with anger and frustration, thus dragging the vile beast�s attention on him. One more minute; accumulating the last shreds of his strength the Lord of the Golden Flower stood up to his predominant enemy, fighting him with almost superelven forces, finally managing to plunge his sword deep into the creature�s heart. In the throes of death, the Balrog lashed out for his defeater. As the first light of the sun touched fair Gondolin Glorfindel�s flesh was branded by the fiery whip and as the sun rose above the mountains he was exiled to the Halls of Mandos, never to see his city again. �

**********~~~~~~~~~~~***********�

A faint movement on the bed brought Glorfindel out of his painful musings � Erestor! Slowly regaining consciousness the dark-haired advisor shifted under his blanket, moving his head as if in agony. In a rush the golden elf was at his side tenderly stroking his hand over the furrowed brow. In an instant the pained expression melted away and the counselor instinctively snuggled into his beloved�s comforting touch. With an effort he opened his eyes, still dull with pain and weakness, and struggling against his frailness curled his lips into a trembling smile.�

�Love�, a hoarse breath seemingly from the far end of the universe, almost inaudible even for keen elven ears but reverberating through Glorfindel�s soul like the roll of thunder.�

�I feared you lost,� voice faltering under the onslaught of emotions the reborn elf was unable to hold back his tears letting them flow freely down his cheeks without any trace of shame.�

�Hold me,� still a whisper though less distant and distinctively increasing in stability, �just let me feel you, cold �so very cold.��

Without a moment�s delay the golden one slid under the blanket wrapping his body around his lover in a peaceful embrace.� For time on end they stayed like this, touching and sharing tender kisses, relinquishing the feeling of being able to hold one another, of being able to breath in the other�s scent and feel their combined warmth surrounding their bodies. After what seemed to be an eternity of quiet endearment Glorfindel slowly pulled out of their embrace, gradually aware that his lover would need more then the nearness of his body to fully regain his strength. With a pleading whimper Erestor skimmed after him, not willing to be segregated from the soothing proximity.�

�Hush, love, I won�t leave you.� Carefully extracting himself from the clinging arms Glorfindel tried again to slip out of the bed. �I�m just going to fix some broth for you. Will be back in no time at all. You�ll have to eat to regain your strength.��

�No soup. Don�t want you to leave.� Holding on to his lover�s tunic with still feeble hands the advisor managed to pull him back into his arms. �There�s just one sustenance I need. One sustenance containing all the nutriments to make me feel alive again. Please, don�t deny me what I so direly crave. Let me drink from the wellspring of life.��

The wellspring of life � involuntarily Glorfindel felt his blood rush to his groin, exactly knowing what Erestor desired. The wellspring of life � the first time the scribe had used this term, explaining its meaning to his incredulous lover, the golden Warrior had been shocked. Never had he imagined that someone would want to take � that - into his mouth; that someone even could think of tasting the slippery fluid of his release. Only reluctantly had he given in to his lover�s desire, unsure if he would be able to enjoy the unknown ministrations. However, all his unsureness had been blown away with the first loving touch of soft lips on his straining member, with the first wet swipe of an eager tongue over the heated crown. This had turned out to be the most blissful experience in his hitherto existence and when he finally had come back from the most powerful climax all that had been on his mind was to evoke the same feelings in his lover as soon as possible.�

Now however, with Erestor being barely back to life, only shortly having escaped the grip of death and still weak like a newborn, Glorfindel felt insecurity surfacing once more. His flesh hardened at the thought of the advisor�s silky-smooth mouth, but still� Wouldn�t it be like taking advantage of someone too ailing to think clearly, wouldn�t he feel like he�d be molesting the one he loved most by giving in to his own desire? At the other hand Erestor had asked for it, wanted it as much as he, but was he really able to truly grasp what he asked for? With a sigh the golden warrior shook his head.�

�I�m not sure if that�s a good idea, love. You�re still too weak; I don�t want to harm you. But I,� blushing to a deep shade of pink he swallowed past the lump in his throat, �I could spill into a cup and feed it to you if that�s what you want.��

�No, love,� Erestor managed an assuring smile, feeble though it was albeit his voice still wavered with exhaustion. �I need to have it from the very source with all your love and strength flowing within. Please, love, don�t reject me when I�m so direly in need, it will help me to feel alive again, help me to regain my strength. Just help me to sit up and don�t deny me what I so desperately crave.��

With a last glance into beseeching brown eyes Glorfindel helped his lover to lean against the headboard and carefully placed his knees on either side of his waist. With trembling hands he opened his breeches and guided his already straining erection to the moist mouth eagerly opened in expectance. Weak he was, his Erestor, so very weak, feeble lips barely wrapped around the swollen head his tongue only circled the weeping slit with kitten-like licks. And � Valar � it felt good, so very, very good. The reborn elf almost sobbed with the blissful sensations surging through his entire being. Brazing one arm against the wooden wall he buried his face in the crook of his elbow his other hand instinctively running up and down his rigid length. Bolts of rapture seized his body with every tiny movement of the nimble tongue. Ah Valar help � how could this feel so good, how could his body abandon itself so entirely to elation when at the same time his mind still struggled against the feeling of abusing his helpless beloved for his own pleasure.�

Trying in vain to bite back the most blissful moans Glorfindel fought hard to keep his hips from plunging deep into the unresisting mouth as all his senses demanded to give himself over to unreined ecstasy. But no, he�d hurt his beloved adviser if he gave in to the overwhelming sensations and this never ever was to be. Desperately clinging on to the last shreds of awareness he struggled to hold back. His whole body shook with both rapture and frustration, breath coming forth in sobbing moans, ever increasing in speed and ardor as he tumbled towards the vortex of a mind-shattering climax.�

Suddenly the sliver of a thought cursed through his brain. A thought petrifying in its clarity. Glorfindel would spill deep into his lovers throat, his seed would jet forth I heavy spurts. And Erestor was weak, too weak to swallow the erupting liquor. He would choke his lover, choke him with his very own seed, choke him while still riding out the waves of his own pleasure. With utter desperation the golden one tried to quench his impending release, pressing hard against the base of his aching shaft. But Erestor would have none of it. With surprising strength he battered away the interfering hand, increasing the flickers of his tongue. With an agonized howl Glorfindel pressed the tip of his thumb against the leaking eye of his member, thus trying anxiously to restrain the spouting gush. �

Still shaking from the force of a breathtaking climax tears of rapture turned into tears of anguish. It had happened again, again the one he loved more than everything, had been killed by his irrepressible lust. Crying in devastating grief Glorfindel didn�t dare to look at his lover�s body. So absorbed was he in his suffering that he didn�t even notice the murmured words of assurance, didn�t feel the soothing hands gliding over his back. Only when a deft finger poked his ribs did he dare to look, gazing into smiling brown eyes shining out of a face tinged with a healthy shade of rose.�

Sobbing again, this time with relief, the Golden Warrior let himself sink into the welcoming arms, burying his face in his lover�s chest and soaking him with his tears. Erestor � still struggling with emotions he let his mind wander back.�

**********~~~~~~~~~~~***********�

So many things had changed during the millennia of his absence, so many things that Glorfindel was sure to have been born into another world. The Valar had granted him a second life � well to be true it had been more of an order, indispensable duties would be waiting for him, they�d said. At first the Golden Warrior hadn�t been quite sure if he should be pleased to be able to leave the Halls of Waiting, if his call should be seen as gratification or as just another sign of the Valar�s inscrutable sense of humor, but with time he had grown very content with his new life.�

In nothing Imladris could be compared to the Hidden City. A sun-drenched valley with friendly, open-minded inhabitants ruled by the most wise and benevolent Lord Elrond, nothing at all like stern and unyielding Gondolin. But what came to Glorfindel as utter surprise was that there were males living openly as a couple, their affection for everyone plain to see. Openly - and no one seemed to care. They were still esteemed members of the community , partly even holding high ranks and no one spit on them or called them names of despise. But surely the decent elves of Imladris were only too well-mannered to show their disgust in public, surely they would slander about these aberrations in the privacy of their homes. For a long time the reborn elf was unable to deal with the turmoil of envy and lingering apprehension warring in his soul at this startling revelation. Every time he noticed two ellyn sharing loving glances or even tender touches he inwardly cringed with alarm and every single shard of his soul urged him on to call out a warning for the couple not to jeopardize their lives. �

Right after his arrival at Imladris Lord Elrond had given his Chief Advisor Erestor at Glorfindel�s side to help him settle in, to help him get used to this strange new life. From the first moment, the reborn elf had felt an unexpected sense of nearness towards the dark-haired ellon, so austere and duteous in his work and so kind and easygoing in private. As much as he wanted to avoid it, to keep to his usual withdrawn way of life, he couldn�t help but accept the unobtrusively offered friendship. A friendship he sometimes, in the most hidden places of his heart, longed for to turn to more. But never would he show any sign of his secret yearning, casting these unsought thoughts away as soon as they raised their offensive heads. �

As often as his schedule allowed the Golden Warrior had made it his habit to attend Erestor�s classes. There were so many things he�d missed out during the time of his death, so many things had changed and he intended to catch up with it as soon as possible, not wanting to be looked at as a relict of the past.�

One day as Glorfindel again entered the sunlit room where the counselor taught the youngsters, as usually taking his seat in the background near the door, the whole classroom seemed to be in turmoil. The children giggled and whispered among themselves and even stern Erestor had to work hard to get their attention. Only after the third time of asking for an explanation, he finally managed to get an answer.�

�Lindir and Melpomen kissed!� A new fit of giggles burst through the classroom.�

Glorfindel felt a cold hand grip his intestines and reach for his heart. Involuntarily he held his breath. Now it would happen, now his new friend would tell his pupils that although elves like this were not� shunned, their abnormal ways tolerated, due to Lord Elrond�s interminable graciousness, but that nevertheless their doings were abhorrently wrong, nothing a proper elf� would ever get involved with. The Balrog Slayer�s stomach tightened as he looked at Erestor�s almost grim face.�

�Well little ones, tell me then,� The scribe�s voice was serious, his eyes unsmiling, �tell me then, what there is to snicker about. Shouldn�t it be a day of joy for everyone when two elves have found together in love? Don�t you know the legend how love originally came into our world?� Leaning comfortable against his desk Erestor let his gaze wander over the attentively listening elflings, resting his eyes for a moment on Glorfindel�s pale face, a small reassuring smile gracing his lips. �Well, listen then.-�

�At the beginning of time all elves consisted of two halves, grown together at the back. They had two heads, two bellies and two sets of arms and legs. Like this they were whole and strong, enjoying their existence in harmony and peace. There were three kinds of beings: the Children of the Sun, consisting of two males, the Children of the Earth, two females and the Children of the Moon, combining one male and one female. But the Valar grew jealous envying their indomitable power and their joyful life and they decided to segregate them. With bolts of lightning they cut them in half, tearing them apart at their backs. In agony and shock the now separated elves fled in all directions. Since then all of us are desperately looking for our other half, feeling only whole when we finally have found each other. And that has been the origin of love. �

�So now tell me, children, what is there to laugh at, when two Children of the Sun are finally reunited after endless millennia of loneliness? It should be a day of joy and celebration for everyone to witness.��

Internally shaking under the onslaught of emotions Glorfindel listened to the uncurling of the story, his mind reeling and his whole soul twisted in turmoil. Could it really be � could it be that easy? Was he really simply a Child of the Sun looking for his other � male � half? Not an abomination, not someone to despise but simply � this? It looked so easy, seeing it like this, so � normal, like there were thousands of them. Were there? Thousands? Thousands of normal elves who just happened to be Children of the Sun? Normal � like all the others?�

Blinking back his tears, unworthy of a great warrior, the Balrog Slayer rushed out of the classroom, never noticing Erestor�s bewildered eyes following his escape.�

The evening found the advisor, a bottle if Imladris� finest wine in his hand, drumming his personal pattern on his friend�s door. He had to repeat it for several times, never ceasing his steady rhythm, never giving away any sign of impatience, determined to get to understand the warrior�s startling behavior. Only after minutes the door was slowly opened by a weary looking Glorfindel his slightly swollen face and red-rimmed eyes indicating that he just had been risen from sleep � or had he cried - ? �

When Glorfindel noticed the soft knock on his door all he wanted to do was to hide away, hide away and never ever again come out of his refuge. But as the constant pounding went on and on he got aware that he wouldn�t be able to reject his friend and gradually he felt the urge for companionship rise within his soul. Erestor had been so serious in telling the old legend, so convincing that everything was normal, that maybe, just maybe the scholar would be willing to listen to his troubles, would be able to set things right. Slowly he opened the door, painfully aware of his wretched appearance.�

Seemingly not noticing the pitiful state the Golden Warrior was in Erestor entered the room, putting the bottle on the table and reached for two glasses.�

�You know I�m your friend, Glorfindel�, he said in an even voice looking straight into troubled blue eyes, �You know, you can trust me. I would never press you; never ask questions you�re not willing to answer. But know this, if you want to talk, I�d feel honored to listen. And do believe me, that not one single word of whatever we�ll speak about will leave this room.��

Unable to speak Glorfindel could only nod his silent agreement as he waved the advisor over to the couch and sat down besides him, clinging to his glass of wine as if it would be his last anchor. Taking a deep gulp he cleared his throat for several times.�

�I would like to,� he whispered unsteadily, �really, I would like it. But I haven�t spoken about this to anyone, ever. I don�t know how to tell; don�t know where to begin���

�Than take your time.� Assuring Erestor took his friend�s hand. �Take as much time as you need. And - start from the beginning, we have all time of the world.��

At this Glorfindel began to talk, hesitantly at the beginning, but encouraged by the dark-haired elve�s comforting grip the words soon flowed more freely. He told of his youth in the Hidden City, of the oath he�d sworn to protect the values of his city, of his anguish as he�d found out about his aberration, of D�nen and the love they�d shared, the unjust trial and his lover�s punishment. He told about Himilin�s treachery and his own condemnation, about the attack of Gondolin in the last night of his life, about his fight with the Balrog and his death in battle. With every word he spoke a heavy weight he�d never been aware of having to carry seemed to be lifted from his soul. As the tale went on Erestor unconsciously intensified his soothing touches with increasingly shaky fingers, no longer sure whom of them he wanted to calm down.�

�So you see,� the ghost of a smile flickered over the golden one�s painstricken features, �I�m not the hero, you all want me to see as. My live has been forfeit when I gave it. I only exchanged the slow and agonizing death in the mines with the swift and clean one on the battlefield. That�s the part not written in your books.��

�No, never say a thing like this!� Kneeling down in front of his friend the advisor took both his hands into his own, burring his face in them for a long moment. Tears blurred his vision as he looked again into the warrior�s equally moist eyes. �Never say something like this ever again. You are a hero, the greatest hero I�ve ever heard of. You fought for those who had despised you, gave your life for the safety of those who had condemned you to the most dreadful death. You could have fled instead, reached for your own safety and life. How more heroic could an elf be? Please, don�t ever diminish your deeds.��
�

�Fled?� A bitter laugh tore free from the Balrog Slayer�s breast. �Fled and betrayed my oath even more, sullied my conscience with the outmost treachery? Besides, I haven�t been the knight in shining armor that day; I�ve been nothing more than an escaped convict, clad only in my prison garb, my prison number making my shame plainly visible for every one. � C.3.3 � I still shiver whenever I think of it.� The last words were nothing more than a murmur.�

�C ��Excited Erestor jumped to his feet, almost crushing Glorfindel�s shoulders in his grip, almost shaking him with agitation. �This had been your prison number? Oh Valar now I understand! Don�t you know � no, how could you ��Calming himself he locked his gaze with the warrior holding onto him with a steady but gentle clasp. �Do you know what has happened? Do you know that this term has become a battle-cry, used only in the direst moments of war? I have heard Gilgalad�s elite troops call it out when they regrouped for their last attack against Mordor. They call it out in your honor, even if they don�t know its meaning. Do you realize what you have done? You have changed a term of shame into a term of honor!��

The Golden Warrior had begun to tremble at his friend�s first words, now the tremors intensified to almost the frenzy of seizures as his control broke down like straw under the force of a landslide. Sobs he had so bravely mastered to hold back fought their way out of his breast and tears unshed for aeons flooded his face. Almost unconscious he collapsed into Erestor�s arms, heavy crying fits surging through his body. With tender care the advisor placed the distraught elf onto his lap, burying his face securely in the crook of his neck, his hands dragging soothing circles over the shaking back, rocking him gently like a child in a cradle, while his own tears flowed unabashed. Painful compassion for the terrible tribulation the elf he secretly had come to love had been exposed to tore his heart in hundreds of tiny peaces. For time on end they stayed like this weeping until they had no more tears to shed. Even then the scribe was reluctant to let go of the still shivering body in his arms. Unnoticeable tightening his embrace to a more sensual degree he continued his loving ministrations placing feathery kisses on the still furrowed brows and shining golden hair. After an eternity of quiet comfort Glorfindel finally moved in the consoling hug, cuddling even closer to his friend�s breast, as he slowly turned his head until their lips brushed together in a first tender kiss.�

From this day on they were to be found together every minute their duties allowed. First Glorfindel was still reluctant, flinching every time when Erestor smiled at him or took his hand in public, but the unobtrusive approval of the inhabitants of Imladris slowly managed to diminish his inhibitions. At a steady pace their love grew, not to the frenzy of lust he had experienced with D�nen but to a deep emotion of mutual trust and understanding. Erestor patiently waited for his lover to get comfortable with this completely new situation, never pushing him, never asking anything he was nor ready yet to give. Thus years went by with their love to grow into a stable force, a force strong enough to defend even death, but there still was one step the golden one was hesitant to take. Not here, not among all these elves, kind and appreciative how they might be, not when he had the feeling that all of them would know what he had done. That was when Lord Elrond of his own volition offered them a week�s repast in his own secluded retreat.�

**********~~~~~~~~~~~***********�

Erestor�s body healed well under his lover�s gentle care but his mind still stayed withdrawn, the emptiness of the misty plain still lingering in his eyes. He felt well and safe whenever resting in his beloved�s arms, but as soon as Glorfindel left him, be it only for a single moment, for preparing food or restocking the firewood the bone-freezing chill of the place between the worlds crept straight down to his very bones. Still the glimmering door shone bright in his vision, opened for him in welcome, increasingly pulling his soul towards its peaceful promise. He fought the pull with all of his willpower but no one knew how long he would be able to resist. There was no denying of the fact that the Chief Advisor of Imladris was slowly fading.�

�Stay with me, love!� Glorfindel whispered covering his beloved�s face with passionate kisses. �Stay with me, I beg you. Don�t make me having you called back to life for naught. I wouldn�t be able to live without you. Tell me what you need to stay and I will do anything you ask for.� �

�Then do it, my golden one, take me, make me completely yours.� Still feeble hands traced sensuous patterns over the warrior�s chest, gradually gliding down towards his groin. �Fill the emptiness within me with the force of your love; drive the chill away with the heat of your passion.��

�I can�t!� Shocked blue eyes searched for a steady brown gaze. �I can�t, you�re still too weak, I would hurt you and I never would do aught to hurt you.��

�Do it, love. You called me back from death and I heeded your call. But a part of my soul still is bound to the misty plain, its emptiness and chill still threatening me whenever I�m not resting in your arms. The shining door is still opened for me, beckoning to me with increasing force and I�m no longer sure how long I will be able to withstand its pull. Please, love, I beseech you, fulfill what you have started, bring me back to life completely.� Tracing ardent kisses over his lover�s breast and stomach he murmured against already heated skin �Make me whole.��

�Then be it!� Arousal surging through his veins, making his blood pool in his groin Glorfindel swallowed with a heavy sigh. �But you�ll have to help me, for I�ve never done this before.��

�Let me lie on my side, it will be les strenuous for both of us.� Moaning with anticipation Erestor quickly shifted over into the most comfortable position. �Now coat your fingers with oil and loosen up the tight muscle of my entrance. I would do it myself, would I not be too weak.��

With shaking hands the Golden Warrior obeyed, circling the puckered opening with slippery fingers. But still he was reluctant to breach the yielding body.�

�Ah, yes, that�s good!� Erestor moaned encouragingly pressing back against the probing finger eager for deeper contact. �Now put it in, love, ah � yes, like this, feels so good. Move it, push it deep in. Valar � yes � give me another one � open me up for you � ah sweet Valar � like this � feels so good.��

Elated by the heartily response Glorfindel drove his fingers deep into the velvety channel, twisting and scissoring, thus turning his lover into an incoherently babbling heap. Only when the moaned �Now�s and �Please�s and �Do it�s became increasingly urgent did he align his straining, well-oiled length with the flexing entrance and slowly started to push in. When the thick crown penetrated the guardian muscle for the first time Erestor was unable to stifle a slight hiss of discomfort. At once Glorfindel stilled his movements.�

�I hurt you!� Voice hoarse with arousal and suppressed need the golden elf placed soothing kisses over his lover�s shoulders. �Please forgive me, love, I�ll stop if you want.��

�No, it�s nothing.� Groaning Erestor pushed back against the invading rod taking it deeper inside of his body. �It stings a little, but it�s a good hurt. It makes me feel alive. Don�t leave me, fill me up to the hilt � let me feel you deep inside of me.��

Moaning in rapture as his aching arousal was fully enclosed in the tight heat that was Erestor, Glorfindel started to set up a slow and steady pace, driving his member deep into his lover�s body before dragging it out almost completely. Blissful waves of heat rolled through Erestor�s body emerging from the thick column of his lover�s flesh, filling the emptiness of his soul with every deep thrust. The movements of his body became more and more erratic, his breathing hoarse and fast, as he felt himself driven towards the realm of ecstasy. His hand reached for his own throbbing flesh only to be pushed away when Glorfindel cupped his balls and straining organ with gentle pressure. Shuddering in the first throes of cosmic bliss he reached back to grab his lover�s hip.�

�Close, love �ah so close � come with me � ah so good � come deep inside of me � fill me � ah yes ... flood me with the essence of your love � ah Valar �NOW!��

The clenching spasms of the velvety channel enhanced by the ardently moaned pleas sent the Golden Warrior straight into a crushing vortex of mind -shattering bliss. Throwing back his head with a ragged wail he thrust one more time deep into the pleasure-wrecked body ere he stiffened in trembling rapture flooding his lover with spurts after spurts of his relief.�

Shining sparks of heat surged through Erestor�s whole being as he echoed his lover�s ecstatic scream, his own body seized in the overwhelming force of his climax, casting away the last shreds of chill and emptiness.�

As the first light of the sun touched the secluded glade the two lovers slowly returned from their blissful high, sharing tender kisses and endearments. And as the sun rose over the trees she smiled gently at her children, finally united, as they ought to be since the beginning of time.�

The End

D�nen � quiet water

Himilin � cold arrow