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Title: On the Edge of Night
Author: Tuxedo Elf
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Fingolfin/Ecthelion
Beta: Eni
Summary: One close encounter leads to another…
Notes: For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
phyncke. *Huggles*
Sitting down heavily on the bed, Fingolfin raised his hand to his chest. The scratch was tiny, barely even visible, yet it hurt him right to his heart. Sighing deeply, his shoulders slumped and his head dropped, though he smiled slightly when he felt strong hands begin to caress his shoulders.
“You heard?” he asked softly, relaxing into the welcome touch.
“Aye,” Ecthelion confirmed. “Such news travel swiftly. You did well not to rise to the bait.”
Twisting around, Fingolfin turned to look at the Elf who had long since claimed his heart and saved him from a loveless marriage. Ecthelion opened his arms and Fingolfin sank into them gratefully, letting the strong embrace soothe him. Ecthelion was more slender than most of the Noldor, but his lean frame held great strength that Fingolfin had learned not to underestimate.
“Why does he hate me so?” he asked, placing one hand over Ecthelion’s as it rested on his chest. “I would have peace between us; I bear him no ill will.”
“He is deeply jealous, you know this,” Ecthelion responded. “You, your brother and mother are all barriers that stand between him and his father’s complete attention and devotion. Why do you ask me to tell you what does not need to be said?”
“To try to make sense of it – to hope that by hearing it I will understand and find a way to heal it.”
Ecthelion sighed sadly and held his lover slightly tighter. Fingolfin tried so hard to do what was right for his family, yet he never seemed to measure up to his half-brother – at least in Finwë’s eyes. He did not understand it. Unlike Fëanor, Fingolfin had done his duty and taken a suitable wife of whom his father approved, despite not loving her. They had warmed to each other enough to share a bed on occasion and had produced three children through mutual consent, the heirs that Finwë so desired. Yet once again, it had not been enough. Fingolfin was too charitable to think it, yet Ecthelion had wondered more than once if Fëanor had produced so many children simply to spite his half-brother.
It had not been until the fifth of Fëanor’s children had been born that Fingolfin had finally given up trying to live up to his brother’s reputation. By that point, his relationship with his wife had cooled to understanding and casual friendship – he knew there would be no more children. While he loved his sons and daughter, he had once again lost out to Fëanor.
In a moment of despair he had gone alone into the gardens with a bottle of wine and attempted to drown his sorrows. Ecthelion, however, had found him there sometime later, after his long-time friend had failed to turn up for dinner.
Fingolfin had been rather worse for wear and so Ecthelion had elected to remain with him until he could take him home without anyone seeing. However in the time they had been waiting, Fingolfin has poured his heart out to Ecthelion, telling him the truth about many things – including his feelings for his friend.
At the time, Ecthelion had been shocked, confused and unsure. He had not known how to respond or even how he felt – he had never before considered sharing anything other than friendship with Fingolfin. Yet within moments the problem had been solved – Fingolfin had kissed him and the feeling of utter rightness that had coursed through him in that moment had erased all doubts. When he had taken the Prince back to his rooms, it was a visit far less innocent than he had originally planned.
The following morning had brought an awkward situation. Before they’d had time to discuss their situation, a maid had entered and found them together. By noon, the news had reached most of Tirion. It had seemed as if disaster was inevitable – being wed, Fingolfin was expected to remain faithful to his wife. However, it was Anairë herself who saved the situation when she stepped forward and gave her blessing to the new couple, stating that their bond had already fulfilled its purpose and that they should now both be free to seek true happiness. To both Fingolfin’s and Ecthelion’s surprise, Finwë had agreed. Ecthelion remembered well Fëanor’s fury on that day.
Since then, however, things had settled down and, until today, had been peaceful. Fingolfin lived near Anairë and their children and saw them daily. They had adapted well to the changes in their lives and quickly adopted Ecthelion as an uncle, a role he was happy to fill. They had all but forgotten Fëanor’s hatred – until today.
Dropping his head, Ecthelion placed gentle kisses along his lover’s neck, attempting to distract him. He chuckled when Fingolfin made a small sound of pleasure, and moved to lick and kiss his ear. Fingolfin visibly relaxed then, so Ecthelion increased his attentions, sliding a hand under his lover’s tunic and caressing the firm torso. His lover leaned back and Ecthelion let his hand travel lower, towards the waistband of Fingolfin’s leggings.
“You like that,” he murmured, sliding his hand under the fabric, to touch the hard flesh within.
“Aye…” Fingolfin’s voice was barely a whisper, as he arched his up towards the touch. A soft moan escaped him as his lover teased his arousal and he moved to untie the laces that kept his leggings closed.
No sooner had he done so, than there came a knock on the door.
Cursing, Fingolfin rose from his lover’s embrace and retied his leggings as he went to the door. That no one would disturb him here except for matters of great importance was little comfort.
Outside his rooms stood a page, his tunic bearing the insignia of the Valar. “My Lord,” he said and bowed deeply before holding out the scroll he carried. Fingolfin took it curiously, but did not ask what it was about – he would know soon enough.
Thanking the page, he dismissed the young Elf and retreated back into his rooms. Ecthelion gave him a curious look as he sat down next to him again and tilted his head to watch his lover as he opened it.
While, in years gone by, messages had been delivered verbally, the creation of the written word allowed for far more privacy when delivering messages. There was no longer need for messengers to know everybody’s business and that was something for which Fingolfin was truly grateful.
Reading the missive, a long sigh escaped him. “I am to go to Valmar tomorrow at midday… Fëanor is to answer to the Valar for his actions against me.” Setting down the scroll, he rubbed his hand over his face. “I would much rather forget it.”
Ecthelion shook his head, a look of frustration crossing his fair face. “You are too forgiving, my love. He has to answer for his crimes. If he is not brought into order now, who knows what the future will bring?”
“I know you are right,” Fingolfin replied softly, “Yet I wish it was not so. I was angry earlier at his forward actions and I lost my temper. I should not have said what I did. He was right, it was not my place.”
“I disagree.” Ecthelion’s own ire was rising; it seemed that nothing would sway Fingolfin from trying to befriend one who did not want him. “First son or not, the first duty of a child, especially one of royal blood, is to their father. You understand that – he does not. You were right to say what you did and tomorrow the Valar will say the same, I am quite sure.”
To that Fingolfin did not reply, knowing in his heart that Ecthelion was right, but not wishing to accept it. Seeing the despondent expression, Ecthelion took the scroll from his lover’s hand and set it aside. “Please… forget about him, at least for one night,” he begged. “Lose yourself in me…”
Fingolfin smiled then, hearing the undeniable invitation to continue what they had started just a few minutes before. He ran his hands up Ecthelion’s tunic, before swiftly divesting him of it and exposing the smooth expanse of his chest. Leaning forward, he placed several kisses on the soft skin before finally removing his own boots, tunic and leggings. If he was moving somewhat quicker than usual, he knew it did not matter… Ecthelion knew he would never hurt him. Even as he undressed, he could see Ecthelion slip out of his own leggings and lie back on the bed, his slender body bared to Fingolfin’s appreciative gaze.
Moving towards him, he knelt before his lover, between the slightly parted legs. For a long moment he let himself drink in the glorious sight and then covered Ecthelion’s body with his own.
Flesh met flesh and beneath him, Fingolfin felt Ecthelion move slightly, just enough to create friction. Both moaned at the delicious feeling and Fingolfin wasted no time in claiming his beloved’s mouth in a passionate kiss.
As their lips met, Ecthelion wrapped his legs around Fingolfin’s waist, inviting, asking him to find both their pleasure. He could feel warm breath on his face as his lover looked down at him and his eyes, closed in pleasure, opened.
“You give me so much,” Fingolfin murmured, smiling at the Elf beneath him.
“I would give you more,” Ecthelion returned, meeting Fingolfin’s loving gaze with his own. “All that I have is yours to take.”
“And take I shall.” Reaching under the pillow, Fingolfin pulled out a small vial of oil. He sat back on his heels to open it, smiling as he saw Ecthelion watching his every move. Pouring a little onto his fingers, he then slipped the oiled digits into his lover’s body, stretching the tight passage until his lover was writhing with need.
Ecthelion hissed as he was lovingly teased. It took all his willpower not to beg Fingolfin to have him that moment, but he had sworn to give his all to his lover and he would let Fingolfin set the pace.
Still, his frustration showed on his face and Fingolfin chuckled, unable to help himself. Taking pity on his generous lover, he oiled his hard length and draped Ecthelion’s legs over his shoulders before pushing inside, sheathing himself fully in one thrust.
A low groan escaped Ecthelion as he was filled utterly and he breathed deeply as his body adjusted and mild discomfort became intense pleasure.
“Ready?” Ecthelion nodded in reply to the simple question and then, to his desire and relief, he felt Fingolfin start to move slowly within him. His hands grasped as the sheets as the thrusts became deeper and he whimpered in pleasure as his sweet spot was touched each time.
The flushed face of his lover and the tight heat surrounding his arousal began to chase away the pain in his heart, replacing it with unending love and deep desire for the Elf beneath him. His thrusts increased in pace and he pulled Ecthelion close enough to kiss him, before slipping one hand down to stroke his partner’s arousal, his intention to bring them to climax together, so that his lover might receive the same pleasure as he was giving.
Their bodies melded together effortlessly and their soft moans filled the room as they took their pleasure in each other. Ecthelion buried his face in Fingolfin’s shoulder as the Prince rocked them both, driving his arousal deeper into Ecthelion’s body.
With a hoarse cry, Ecthelion found his peak and warm seed spilled over Fingolfin’s hand and onto their stomachs. He gasped for breath as he felt his lover dig his fingers into his back; as Ecthelion too, sought release.
“Ecthelion!” Fingolfin cried out as he came, shuddering from the force of his climax. He still held Ecthelion close, unwilling to release him, even as his body started to relax.
Only when Ecthelion groaned in discomfort did Fingolfin blush and gently lower his lover’s legs. Pulling him into his arms, they collapsed together on the rumpled sheets.
“Thank you.” Fingolfin smiled at Ecthelion, leaning in to kiss him tenderly. “I needed that more than I knew.”
“It was my pleasure,” Ecthelion replied, his eyes twinkling. “Your happiness is my happiness. Rest now – tomorrow will be a long day.” Reaching out, he pulled several blankets over them before resting his head on Fingolfin’s chest.
“You will come with me?” Fingolfin murmured, stroking Ecthelion’s dark hair.
“Of course,” his lover replied. “I would not let you face him alone.”
“Nor would I, you.” Smiling tenderly, Fingolfin kissed his lover once more, before letting himself drift into dreams, for the moment unconcerned with the trails of the coming day.
************************
Shortly after dawn the next day, Fingolfin left the palace in Tirion and made his way towards Valmar, with Ecthelion by his side. They rode for many hours in silence, Fingolfin lost in his thoughts and Ecthelion content to let him be.
They stopped once, at Ecthelion’s insistence, to rest the horses and eat a little. There had been no time for breakfast before they left and Ecthelion wished to make sure his lover was at his best. Fingolfin dutifully ate the meat and bread Ecthelion gave him, but it was easy to see that he had no appetite that day. It was not long before they were finished eating and were once more on the road to Valmar.
It was approaching midday when they finally came to the great City of the Valar. Great gates opened to let them in, though they could see no others nearby. They rode up a wide, shining path while to each side of them were tall, smooth towers. They could see no doors or windows, though at the top of each one was a bell tower, some containing one bell, others, several. The gentle breeze meant that the air was always alive with their ringing, yet it was not a harsh sound, but a gentle music that echoed pleasantly.
The path narrowed at they continued and before them they could see another set of gates; that rose almost to the sky and glittered of crystal and silver. Ecthelion could not suppress a gasp of awe at the sight and the vision would forever be engraved into his heart. In years to come, crystal and silver would become the colours of his house, in honour of the beauty he had seen.
This was the heart of the land of the Valar and the place in which judgement would be passed. Already people were gathering and Ecthelion saw many that he knew. However, the time was not yet right to approach them – they were not ready.
“Come, this way,” he said, leading Fingolfin off behind one of the many towers. From his bag he brought formal robes, handing one set to his lover. “You need to be a prince today and so you must look the part.”
Fingolfin smiled as he took the robes and quickly began to change. “You have thought of everything, love – thank you. I have been distracted by all this, I fear.”
“Think nothing of it.” Ecthelion smiled as he also changed clothes. “Let us just hope that all goes well. Are you ready?”
Looking down at himself, Fingolfin smoothed out his robes before nodding. “Aye, let us get this over with and go home.” Taking a deep breath, he strode out and back onto the path, towards the gates, knowing Ecthelion was but a step behind him.
In the time it had taken them to make ready, many more had arrived, including Fëanor, his wife and sons. Finwë was there also, yet Fingolfin did not dare look at his father as he stood next to his half-brother. Instead he took his place on the opposite side and awaited the arrival of the Valar.
They did not have long to wait. A wave of soft light washed over the crowd and when it faded, those who governed them stood before the great gates. With bated breath, Fingolfin watched as, with a wave of his hand, Námo drew a shining circle in the ground and Fëanor was called to step inside it.
Soon after, the questioning started and no sounds were heard except the words of Fëanor and Námo. As the truth became clear, Fingolfin’s rage built, though he fought to control it. So many lies had been spread by Melkor and now it had come to this. More than once he was glad for the silent yet supportive presence of Ecthelion behind him.
At last came the moment of judgement and Fingolfin listened with horror as his half-brother was cast out Tirion for twelve years as punishment for his actions. He did not want this, but he was not one to question the judgement of the Valar.
Ecthelion though, was less concerned. Fingolfin’s loyalty to his half-brother had always worried him – the previous day was the only time Ecthelion knew of that Fingolfin had spoken against his brother.
However, his relief was short-lived. He sighed in resignation when Fingolfin forgave his brother so readily, though he had half expected it. Yet when Finwë announced that he too would leave with his son, Ecthelion was hard pressed to contain his rage. Turning to look at Fingolfin, he saw such utter devastation there at this abandonment, that a good part of his respect for the high King was forever lost. Nor was it lost on him that it was not only Fingolfin he was leaving behind – but his people as well.
As he watched, Fëanor turned and left without so much as a word, his family trailing obediently behind him, leaving Fingolfin standing by the gate. The Valar offered no words of comfort either, leaving as they had arrived once Fëanor had departed from the beautiful city. Then too went the others, back to their homes, until finally only Fingolfin and Ecthelion remained.
The moment they were alone, Ecthelion went to his lover, pulling him into his arms without hesitation. Fingolfin leaned heavily against him and Ecthelion’s heart went out to him, sensing the deep weariness that consumed him.
“I tried,” he whispered, “yet still he chose Fëanor over me. I will never be enough.”
“I know,” Ecthelion replied. “I do not claim to understand it, though I think it was a poor choice.” For Fingolfin’s sake he quelled his anger, knowing that soothing his lover was the better action. “All I can suggest is to use this time to learn – you rule our people now. Do well and he will have no choice but to see what a fine son he has.”
Fingolfin nodded and looked into his lover’s eyes. “I cannot do it alone.”
Ecthelion smiled. “You will not be alone. I will always help you.”
“You promise this?” A slight smile graced Fingolfin’s face at the show of devotion.
“I promise,” Ecthelion confirmed. “Wherever you need me to be, that is where I shall be found. On our love, I swear this.”
Reaching out, Fingolfin caressed Ecthelion’s cheek, touched by the words and the love behind them. “To that I will also hold – may we never long be apart.” His heart greatly eased, he leaned down and, before the gates of the Valar, sealed his vow with a kiss.
THE END
Author: Tuxedo Elf
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Fingolfin/Ecthelion
Beta: Eni
Summary: One close encounter leads to another…
Notes: For
phyncke. *Huggles* Sitting down heavily on the bed, Fingolfin raised his hand to his chest. The scratch was tiny, barely even visible, yet it hurt him right to his heart. Sighing deeply, his shoulders slumped and his head dropped, though he smiled slightly when he felt strong hands begin to caress his shoulders.
“You heard?” he asked softly, relaxing into the welcome touch.
“Aye,” Ecthelion confirmed. “Such news travel swiftly. You did well not to rise to the bait.”
Twisting around, Fingolfin turned to look at the Elf who had long since claimed his heart and saved him from a loveless marriage. Ecthelion opened his arms and Fingolfin sank into them gratefully, letting the strong embrace soothe him. Ecthelion was more slender than most of the Noldor, but his lean frame held great strength that Fingolfin had learned not to underestimate.
“Why does he hate me so?” he asked, placing one hand over Ecthelion’s as it rested on his chest. “I would have peace between us; I bear him no ill will.”
“He is deeply jealous, you know this,” Ecthelion responded. “You, your brother and mother are all barriers that stand between him and his father’s complete attention and devotion. Why do you ask me to tell you what does not need to be said?”
“To try to make sense of it – to hope that by hearing it I will understand and find a way to heal it.”
Ecthelion sighed sadly and held his lover slightly tighter. Fingolfin tried so hard to do what was right for his family, yet he never seemed to measure up to his half-brother – at least in Finwë’s eyes. He did not understand it. Unlike Fëanor, Fingolfin had done his duty and taken a suitable wife of whom his father approved, despite not loving her. They had warmed to each other enough to share a bed on occasion and had produced three children through mutual consent, the heirs that Finwë so desired. Yet once again, it had not been enough. Fingolfin was too charitable to think it, yet Ecthelion had wondered more than once if Fëanor had produced so many children simply to spite his half-brother.
It had not been until the fifth of Fëanor’s children had been born that Fingolfin had finally given up trying to live up to his brother’s reputation. By that point, his relationship with his wife had cooled to understanding and casual friendship – he knew there would be no more children. While he loved his sons and daughter, he had once again lost out to Fëanor.
In a moment of despair he had gone alone into the gardens with a bottle of wine and attempted to drown his sorrows. Ecthelion, however, had found him there sometime later, after his long-time friend had failed to turn up for dinner.
Fingolfin had been rather worse for wear and so Ecthelion had elected to remain with him until he could take him home without anyone seeing. However in the time they had been waiting, Fingolfin has poured his heart out to Ecthelion, telling him the truth about many things – including his feelings for his friend.
At the time, Ecthelion had been shocked, confused and unsure. He had not known how to respond or even how he felt – he had never before considered sharing anything other than friendship with Fingolfin. Yet within moments the problem had been solved – Fingolfin had kissed him and the feeling of utter rightness that had coursed through him in that moment had erased all doubts. When he had taken the Prince back to his rooms, it was a visit far less innocent than he had originally planned.
The following morning had brought an awkward situation. Before they’d had time to discuss their situation, a maid had entered and found them together. By noon, the news had reached most of Tirion. It had seemed as if disaster was inevitable – being wed, Fingolfin was expected to remain faithful to his wife. However, it was Anairë herself who saved the situation when she stepped forward and gave her blessing to the new couple, stating that their bond had already fulfilled its purpose and that they should now both be free to seek true happiness. To both Fingolfin’s and Ecthelion’s surprise, Finwë had agreed. Ecthelion remembered well Fëanor’s fury on that day.
Since then, however, things had settled down and, until today, had been peaceful. Fingolfin lived near Anairë and their children and saw them daily. They had adapted well to the changes in their lives and quickly adopted Ecthelion as an uncle, a role he was happy to fill. They had all but forgotten Fëanor’s hatred – until today.
Dropping his head, Ecthelion placed gentle kisses along his lover’s neck, attempting to distract him. He chuckled when Fingolfin made a small sound of pleasure, and moved to lick and kiss his ear. Fingolfin visibly relaxed then, so Ecthelion increased his attentions, sliding a hand under his lover’s tunic and caressing the firm torso. His lover leaned back and Ecthelion let his hand travel lower, towards the waistband of Fingolfin’s leggings.
“You like that,” he murmured, sliding his hand under the fabric, to touch the hard flesh within.
“Aye…” Fingolfin’s voice was barely a whisper, as he arched his up towards the touch. A soft moan escaped him as his lover teased his arousal and he moved to untie the laces that kept his leggings closed.
No sooner had he done so, than there came a knock on the door.
Cursing, Fingolfin rose from his lover’s embrace and retied his leggings as he went to the door. That no one would disturb him here except for matters of great importance was little comfort.
Outside his rooms stood a page, his tunic bearing the insignia of the Valar. “My Lord,” he said and bowed deeply before holding out the scroll he carried. Fingolfin took it curiously, but did not ask what it was about – he would know soon enough.
Thanking the page, he dismissed the young Elf and retreated back into his rooms. Ecthelion gave him a curious look as he sat down next to him again and tilted his head to watch his lover as he opened it.
While, in years gone by, messages had been delivered verbally, the creation of the written word allowed for far more privacy when delivering messages. There was no longer need for messengers to know everybody’s business and that was something for which Fingolfin was truly grateful.
Reading the missive, a long sigh escaped him. “I am to go to Valmar tomorrow at midday… Fëanor is to answer to the Valar for his actions against me.” Setting down the scroll, he rubbed his hand over his face. “I would much rather forget it.”
Ecthelion shook his head, a look of frustration crossing his fair face. “You are too forgiving, my love. He has to answer for his crimes. If he is not brought into order now, who knows what the future will bring?”
“I know you are right,” Fingolfin replied softly, “Yet I wish it was not so. I was angry earlier at his forward actions and I lost my temper. I should not have said what I did. He was right, it was not my place.”
“I disagree.” Ecthelion’s own ire was rising; it seemed that nothing would sway Fingolfin from trying to befriend one who did not want him. “First son or not, the first duty of a child, especially one of royal blood, is to their father. You understand that – he does not. You were right to say what you did and tomorrow the Valar will say the same, I am quite sure.”
To that Fingolfin did not reply, knowing in his heart that Ecthelion was right, but not wishing to accept it. Seeing the despondent expression, Ecthelion took the scroll from his lover’s hand and set it aside. “Please… forget about him, at least for one night,” he begged. “Lose yourself in me…”
Fingolfin smiled then, hearing the undeniable invitation to continue what they had started just a few minutes before. He ran his hands up Ecthelion’s tunic, before swiftly divesting him of it and exposing the smooth expanse of his chest. Leaning forward, he placed several kisses on the soft skin before finally removing his own boots, tunic and leggings. If he was moving somewhat quicker than usual, he knew it did not matter… Ecthelion knew he would never hurt him. Even as he undressed, he could see Ecthelion slip out of his own leggings and lie back on the bed, his slender body bared to Fingolfin’s appreciative gaze.
Moving towards him, he knelt before his lover, between the slightly parted legs. For a long moment he let himself drink in the glorious sight and then covered Ecthelion’s body with his own.
Flesh met flesh and beneath him, Fingolfin felt Ecthelion move slightly, just enough to create friction. Both moaned at the delicious feeling and Fingolfin wasted no time in claiming his beloved’s mouth in a passionate kiss.
As their lips met, Ecthelion wrapped his legs around Fingolfin’s waist, inviting, asking him to find both their pleasure. He could feel warm breath on his face as his lover looked down at him and his eyes, closed in pleasure, opened.
“You give me so much,” Fingolfin murmured, smiling at the Elf beneath him.
“I would give you more,” Ecthelion returned, meeting Fingolfin’s loving gaze with his own. “All that I have is yours to take.”
“And take I shall.” Reaching under the pillow, Fingolfin pulled out a small vial of oil. He sat back on his heels to open it, smiling as he saw Ecthelion watching his every move. Pouring a little onto his fingers, he then slipped the oiled digits into his lover’s body, stretching the tight passage until his lover was writhing with need.
Ecthelion hissed as he was lovingly teased. It took all his willpower not to beg Fingolfin to have him that moment, but he had sworn to give his all to his lover and he would let Fingolfin set the pace.
Still, his frustration showed on his face and Fingolfin chuckled, unable to help himself. Taking pity on his generous lover, he oiled his hard length and draped Ecthelion’s legs over his shoulders before pushing inside, sheathing himself fully in one thrust.
A low groan escaped Ecthelion as he was filled utterly and he breathed deeply as his body adjusted and mild discomfort became intense pleasure.
“Ready?” Ecthelion nodded in reply to the simple question and then, to his desire and relief, he felt Fingolfin start to move slowly within him. His hands grasped as the sheets as the thrusts became deeper and he whimpered in pleasure as his sweet spot was touched each time.
The flushed face of his lover and the tight heat surrounding his arousal began to chase away the pain in his heart, replacing it with unending love and deep desire for the Elf beneath him. His thrusts increased in pace and he pulled Ecthelion close enough to kiss him, before slipping one hand down to stroke his partner’s arousal, his intention to bring them to climax together, so that his lover might receive the same pleasure as he was giving.
Their bodies melded together effortlessly and their soft moans filled the room as they took their pleasure in each other. Ecthelion buried his face in Fingolfin’s shoulder as the Prince rocked them both, driving his arousal deeper into Ecthelion’s body.
With a hoarse cry, Ecthelion found his peak and warm seed spilled over Fingolfin’s hand and onto their stomachs. He gasped for breath as he felt his lover dig his fingers into his back; as Ecthelion too, sought release.
“Ecthelion!” Fingolfin cried out as he came, shuddering from the force of his climax. He still held Ecthelion close, unwilling to release him, even as his body started to relax.
Only when Ecthelion groaned in discomfort did Fingolfin blush and gently lower his lover’s legs. Pulling him into his arms, they collapsed together on the rumpled sheets.
“Thank you.” Fingolfin smiled at Ecthelion, leaning in to kiss him tenderly. “I needed that more than I knew.”
“It was my pleasure,” Ecthelion replied, his eyes twinkling. “Your happiness is my happiness. Rest now – tomorrow will be a long day.” Reaching out, he pulled several blankets over them before resting his head on Fingolfin’s chest.
“You will come with me?” Fingolfin murmured, stroking Ecthelion’s dark hair.
“Of course,” his lover replied. “I would not let you face him alone.”
“Nor would I, you.” Smiling tenderly, Fingolfin kissed his lover once more, before letting himself drift into dreams, for the moment unconcerned with the trails of the coming day.
************************
Shortly after dawn the next day, Fingolfin left the palace in Tirion and made his way towards Valmar, with Ecthelion by his side. They rode for many hours in silence, Fingolfin lost in his thoughts and Ecthelion content to let him be.
They stopped once, at Ecthelion’s insistence, to rest the horses and eat a little. There had been no time for breakfast before they left and Ecthelion wished to make sure his lover was at his best. Fingolfin dutifully ate the meat and bread Ecthelion gave him, but it was easy to see that he had no appetite that day. It was not long before they were finished eating and were once more on the road to Valmar.
It was approaching midday when they finally came to the great City of the Valar. Great gates opened to let them in, though they could see no others nearby. They rode up a wide, shining path while to each side of them were tall, smooth towers. They could see no doors or windows, though at the top of each one was a bell tower, some containing one bell, others, several. The gentle breeze meant that the air was always alive with their ringing, yet it was not a harsh sound, but a gentle music that echoed pleasantly.
The path narrowed at they continued and before them they could see another set of gates; that rose almost to the sky and glittered of crystal and silver. Ecthelion could not suppress a gasp of awe at the sight and the vision would forever be engraved into his heart. In years to come, crystal and silver would become the colours of his house, in honour of the beauty he had seen.
This was the heart of the land of the Valar and the place in which judgement would be passed. Already people were gathering and Ecthelion saw many that he knew. However, the time was not yet right to approach them – they were not ready.
“Come, this way,” he said, leading Fingolfin off behind one of the many towers. From his bag he brought formal robes, handing one set to his lover. “You need to be a prince today and so you must look the part.”
Fingolfin smiled as he took the robes and quickly began to change. “You have thought of everything, love – thank you. I have been distracted by all this, I fear.”
“Think nothing of it.” Ecthelion smiled as he also changed clothes. “Let us just hope that all goes well. Are you ready?”
Looking down at himself, Fingolfin smoothed out his robes before nodding. “Aye, let us get this over with and go home.” Taking a deep breath, he strode out and back onto the path, towards the gates, knowing Ecthelion was but a step behind him.
In the time it had taken them to make ready, many more had arrived, including Fëanor, his wife and sons. Finwë was there also, yet Fingolfin did not dare look at his father as he stood next to his half-brother. Instead he took his place on the opposite side and awaited the arrival of the Valar.
They did not have long to wait. A wave of soft light washed over the crowd and when it faded, those who governed them stood before the great gates. With bated breath, Fingolfin watched as, with a wave of his hand, Námo drew a shining circle in the ground and Fëanor was called to step inside it.
Soon after, the questioning started and no sounds were heard except the words of Fëanor and Námo. As the truth became clear, Fingolfin’s rage built, though he fought to control it. So many lies had been spread by Melkor and now it had come to this. More than once he was glad for the silent yet supportive presence of Ecthelion behind him.
At last came the moment of judgement and Fingolfin listened with horror as his half-brother was cast out Tirion for twelve years as punishment for his actions. He did not want this, but he was not one to question the judgement of the Valar.
Ecthelion though, was less concerned. Fingolfin’s loyalty to his half-brother had always worried him – the previous day was the only time Ecthelion knew of that Fingolfin had spoken against his brother.
However, his relief was short-lived. He sighed in resignation when Fingolfin forgave his brother so readily, though he had half expected it. Yet when Finwë announced that he too would leave with his son, Ecthelion was hard pressed to contain his rage. Turning to look at Fingolfin, he saw such utter devastation there at this abandonment, that a good part of his respect for the high King was forever lost. Nor was it lost on him that it was not only Fingolfin he was leaving behind – but his people as well.
As he watched, Fëanor turned and left without so much as a word, his family trailing obediently behind him, leaving Fingolfin standing by the gate. The Valar offered no words of comfort either, leaving as they had arrived once Fëanor had departed from the beautiful city. Then too went the others, back to their homes, until finally only Fingolfin and Ecthelion remained.
The moment they were alone, Ecthelion went to his lover, pulling him into his arms without hesitation. Fingolfin leaned heavily against him and Ecthelion’s heart went out to him, sensing the deep weariness that consumed him.
“I tried,” he whispered, “yet still he chose Fëanor over me. I will never be enough.”
“I know,” Ecthelion replied. “I do not claim to understand it, though I think it was a poor choice.” For Fingolfin’s sake he quelled his anger, knowing that soothing his lover was the better action. “All I can suggest is to use this time to learn – you rule our people now. Do well and he will have no choice but to see what a fine son he has.”
Fingolfin nodded and looked into his lover’s eyes. “I cannot do it alone.”
Ecthelion smiled. “You will not be alone. I will always help you.”
“You promise this?” A slight smile graced Fingolfin’s face at the show of devotion.
“I promise,” Ecthelion confirmed. “Wherever you need me to be, that is where I shall be found. On our love, I swear this.”
Reaching out, Fingolfin caressed Ecthelion’s cheek, touched by the words and the love behind them. “To that I will also hold – may we never long be apart.” His heart greatly eased, he leaned down and, before the gates of the Valar, sealed his vow with a kiss.
THE END
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Date: 2006-04-10 05:07 pm (UTC)From:I hope Ecthelion will huggle Fingolfin for us, too!
**hugs**
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Date: 2006-04-10 05:37 pm (UTC)From:He really did need someone like Ecthelion by his side through that. Awwww. How sweetly you wrote them.
I also really like your interpretation of those events. It was spot on. And I especially like how they got together. Fin with his little crush on him...heeee. How sweet.
Gods, it was great! You rock!