Heartsong by Trinity Helix
Summary: Glorfindel broods, Ecthelion shows him beauty.
Categories: FPS > Glorfindel/Ecthelion, FPS, FPS > Ecthelion/Glorfindel Characters: Ecthelion, Glorfindel
Type: Romance/Drama
Warning: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 1 Completed: Yes Word count: 1984 Read: 1245 Published: September 03, 2012 Updated: September 03, 2012
Story Notes:
A lovely fun bit've of pre-slash. Enjoy! :)

Glossary: Meleth-nin –My love

1. Chapter 1 by Trinity Helix

Chapter 1 by Trinity Helix
It was a beautiful day.

Ecthelion stood atop the seventh gate of the city of Gondolin, sharp eyes scanning the surrounding mountains. The setting sun painted the craggy peaks in halos of orange and violet, their majesty outshining even the brightest of faceted gems.

"Perhaps today the Valar shall smile upon us once more," he mumured to himself, a small smile gracing his lips.

The prophecies of Gondolin's fall were undated, and every day the twelve houses lived in constant apprehension. Turgon himself was oft seen poring over ancient scrolls, head bowed deep in thought. The king feared for his city, Ecthelion knew, and thus worked ceaselessly to form its impenetrable walls and gates.

A glint of gold caught in the fading sun shimmered from the corner of the Lord's eye, distracting him from his thoughts.

Glorfindel.

Ecthelion turned just as his comrade made his way up the hidden steps towards his perch, offering his hand in greeting.

"What tidings, friend?" he asked, as Glorfindel clasped his hand.

The warrior smiled. "I simply wished to see how fared the warden and his city gates," he said, turning to view the sprawling vista that Ecthelion had previously admired.

"The quiet is ever welcome," the lord said by way of reply, indicating that which they stood before. "And the warden is quite well; he thanks you for asking."

"Ah." Glorfindel closed his eyes, briefly savoring the lavender-tinted air. It was seldom that he had time enough to spend for himself, though he well knew the importance of the roles both he and Ecthelion played. Lords of their houses and chief servants to the king of Gondolin; alas, these positions were both blessing and curse.

"You are brooding, old friend," said Ecthelion, amusement coloring his tone.

Roused from his reverie, the warrior offered a brief smile. "Is it so obvious?" he asked, but the other elf shook his head.

"Nay," Ecthelion said. "But you forget that I know you well. Come; tell me your thoughts, Glorfindel. What truly brings you to my side this day?"

Glorfindel was silent for a long moment, his teeth worrying at his lower lip. "Perhaps I simply feel the need for... time that is my own," he said finally. "It has been a century since I last travelled the encircling mountains, and even longer since I traveled beyond that. That which we do... day in and day out... is difficult. I find myself more and more wistful, no matter the beauty of these white walls that surround us."

He did not meet his comrade's eyes as he spoke, looking almost as if he feared chastising over his words.

Ecthelion laughed softly, grasping his surprised friend's shoulder. "Nay, it is not treason to wish for leave," he said. "Pray, do not look so aggrieved. If any of us understand your thoughts, it is I who must stand at this gate that will know it."

"You make fun of me and rightly so," said Glorfindel. "My apologies, Ecthelion; I have no right to wish for time apart when it is you who guards this gate upon each sun's rising..."

"You mistake my words, friend," replied Ecthelion, unable to keep the laughter that welled. "Are you truly so melancholy that you cannot even bare my jests? Ai, we must swiftly see the king regarding your sorry state!"

The warrior smiled in spite of himself, shaking his head at the other elf's exuberance. How he managed such spirit in the face of such a monotonous task was quite beyond Glorfindel, but it was this gaiety itself that made him such fair company.

"The sun sets and my kinsman comes to relieve me," announced Ecthelion, nodding at the elf that strode forward. "Will you dine with me?"

Glorfindel nodded, watching as the Lord bade last instructions to his warden. The elf executed a crisp salute, his silver and black cloak shimmering as he did so.

"Where do you wish to sup?" asked Ecthelion as they climbed down to the city floor. There was a small room built into the white stone beside the looming gate, and it was here that both elves entered.

"I am impartial," Glorfindel replied, turning away as the lord began to shed his garb. "The choice is yours, my friend."

Ecthelion hid a smile at the gesture, removing the bow that was slung across his back and his longsword also. He grimaced slightly as he removed his mithril armor, the plates catching one of his locks in between.

"'Silver and diamonds was their delight', indeed," he murmured darkly, wondering for what seemed the millionth time why he'd proposed such a design.

Now clad in a simple tunic of silver and white, he took his robes of office and donned them above. Likewise did he wear his pale sword once more, but the bow he left in its own place.

"If you have no quarrel with it, I had hoped for a simple meal at the common hall," he said to Glorfindel. "The House of the Fountain is always welcome to you."

The Lord had no objection, and together they made their way into the glittering streets of Gondolin. It was full night by the time they reached the house that Ecthelion ruled, and Glorfindel realized that it had been long indeed since he'd last come to the House of the Fountain.


Polished silver pillars crusted with diamonds proclaimed the house in all its nobility, the sprawling structure sweeping across most of the block. Crystal chimes sounded softly in the background as the two Lords made their way into the citadel, and Glorfindel smiled ruefully. His own house was themed with sun-forged gold, and the irony of their colors was not lost on him. Gold and Silver, Sun and Moon. As different as night and day, but with friendship forged stronger than mithril.

"Turgon chose his hands well," he murmured.

"What was that?" Ecthelion asked, turning to him with a smile.

Glorfindel shook his head. "Nay, 'twas nothing," he said. "Simply speaking aloud..."

"Ah," said Ecthelion, and led his companion further into his home. Several elves of the Fountain greeted them deferentially as they passed, and the Lord acknowledged them with a nod.

"Narelle, has supper been served at the common hall?" Ecthelion stopped to ask one, and the elf nodded.

"Aye, my lord," he said. "I believe Macilme has fresh conjured his newest batch of stew."

"Very good," Ecthelion nodded, turning to Glorfindel with a smile. "Macilme's experimentations are legendary among us-- it is rare that he uses a recipe for his creations."

Together they entered the dining hall, taking their appointed places at the Lord's table. There was a musical hum of conversation about, and Glorfindel idly wondered if everything the elves of this house did was so ingrained in music.

Presently a servant arrived with a tray laden with fruits and bread, serving wine from a gilded silver carafe.

"This is my newest stock," explained Ecthelion, gesturing to his goblet. "Harvested fresh from the grapes grown inside the city."

Glorfindel sipped obediently, feeling the tart liquid slide smoothly down his throat. "It's surprisingly sweet," he said, accepting the servant's offer for more.

Ecthelion smiled. "It was a good purchase," he said. "The men seem to enjoy it, as well."

Steaming plates were brought before them then, vegetables in clear soup and honeyed rice. The two elves ate in relative silence, the somewhat strange combination proving delightful in its uniqueness. Idle chatter began as the servants cleared the table, small plates of various sweetcakes set before them.

"I believe I wish to play tonight," Ecthelion said thoughtfully, watching as Glorfindel picked at one of the deserts. "It seems a tune should lighten the mood."

A crystal flute was set on the table before he had even the chance to ask, and Glorfindel smiled at the gesture. "It seems they cannot wait to hear you as well," he said.

Indeed, the half-filled room was now turned towards the Lord's table in unabashed attention, and Ecthelion stood and bowed briefly before arranging his instrument.

"Aye, it has become something of a habit lately," he said. "Some of them join me as I play..."

So saying, he held the flute to his lips and blew softly upon it, the peaceful strains of a lover's ballad coming into fruition. Glorfindel closed his eyes as Ecthelion played, reminded once again why the gondolindrim viewed him as among them the greatest musician.

The song wrapped around the Lord's senses, drawing him into the tune and pulling him away from all that troubled his soul. The music spoke to him, told the tale of a golden lord who dwelled in a field of spring. All around him flutes began to slowly enter the melody, the soft strains weaving a majestic chorus of peace.

Glorfindel listened, leaned back against the chair and opened his mind, letting the crystal sounds wash over him in cleansing waves.

Ecthelion watched with lidded eyes as his companion relaxed, the tension easing visibly from his soul. He played for Glorfindel well into the night, his kinsmen leaving the melody as expertly as they had entered.

Finally, at midnight, only they two remained.

"Be well, old friend," Ecthelion said, smiling softly as he put away his crystal flute.

Indeed, Glorfindel had fallen fast asleep in his chair, his golden hair tousled in hopeless waves around his shoulders. Ecthelion drew near him and smoothed the silken strands from his forhead, watching in amusement as the Lord automatically lifted a hand to smooth back his locks.

"Awaken, Glorfindel," he said, coaxing the battle-roughened hands to loose their grip. "We must rise in but a few hours time..."

Blue eyes blinked open languidly at his words, and the Lord grimaced as he realized where he sat. "My apologies," he murmured, vainly straightening his robes as he sat up. "Your melody lulled me..."

"Aye, 'twas the intent," Ecthelion smiled, offering him a hand to rise fully. "You looked troubled and I sought to ease your worries."

Glorfindel sighed. "You have my thanks, friend," he said, running a hand through his locks. "Though I hope that none may see me looking so... mussed."

"Vain as ever," Ecthelion snorted, rolling his eyes heavenward. "Come, we must to bed if we intend to stay awake at our duties tomorrow."

Glorfindel murmured a small sound of affirmation, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Together they made their way into Ecthelion's chambers, their steps echoing against the cool marble floors.

Spotting the velvet divan he had oft slept in before, Glorfindel stepped towards it and found himself unceremoniously steered towards the matress and felled onto it.

"You may take the bed tonight," Ecthelion said without preamble, and he himself went to the divan and lay upon it.

Glorfindel well knew that it was no use debating any matter with the other elf once his mind had been made, and he settled himself upon the mattress' silken sheets. Weary as he was, his body could easily bear physical woes. Nay, it was fatigue borne of the soul that had plagued him earlier, and it was that selfsame worry that had lifted from him now.

"Ecthelion?" he called softly in the darkness. "Are you awake?"

A faint murmur came from the divan's general direction, and Glorfindel discerned that his friend was listening but barely.

"Thank you, old friend," he said quietly, simply. "Sleep well."

Silence reigned after his words, and the lord realized that Ecthelion had drifted to sleep. Glorfindel's lids grew heavy as he listened to his companion's even breathing, and just before he fell to slumber, he heard Ecthelion's soft reply.

"Sleep well, meleth-nin," came the whisper, so inaudibly that Glorfindel thought that he had not heard it at all.

A smile graced the lord's lips as his eyes fluttered shut once more, and into his dreams he carried the faint strains of a crystal flute.
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