Title: The Flower and the Fountain: At Your Acquaintance
Author: Aduial (imladris@bellsouth.net)
Pairing: Glorfindel/Ecthelion
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Glorfindel and Ecthelion were famed captains of Gondolin.  What were
they like as children?  What kind of relationship did they share?
Disclaimer: Don't own the characters unless stated.
Authors Note: Based on the Silmarillion and the Book of Lost
Tales II.

Summary: Long before being renowned as the captains of the hidden city of
Gondolin, Glorfindel and Ecthelion were children once.  Just how did they meet
in the first place? (Valinor, during the Years of the Trees)

Nothing could compare to the lands of Valinor.  Its beauty was radiant, and
everlasting; it was tranquil, peaceful and timeless.  The light of Valinor was
gentle, tender like a mother’s touch, warm and pleasing.  The elves that had
traveled there from Middle-earth marveled at the majesty of the powers that had
created such a land.  The wonders they found there were endless, boundless; few
words could adequately describe what they saw and experienced.  Many, however,
often missed the lands of Middle-earth, of which they tarried little before
being called to the Valar.  But, it was the children who had been born on the
shores of Valinor that craved the sight of Middle-earth more.  For these
children could only see the far-off land through the eyes and stories of their
parents.

One such child, Glorfindel, desired to see such a place, even at his young age. 
He had barely reached his twentieth year, and was still long form his majority;
but, he had the early makings and traits of someone who would do great deeds
before he left the world.  He was fair and tall, like most elves, his hair
golden, signifying the Vanyar blood that mingled in his veins with his Noldorin
origins.  Glorfindel was named for his brillant mane, which he often kept in a
somewhat messy plait down his back; strands would stray now and again into the
view of his clear azure eyes.  He was a curious child, often straying from his
parents’ sides to explore other parts of Valinor, and the elves that dwelt
there.  Glorfindel had few companions his age, but he didn’t seem too bothered
by the fact.  He was precarious and a bit wild; few other elflings could even
keep up with him.

So, it came that Glorfindel strayed far from the elvish dwellings settled in
Manwe’s lands to that of the lake of Lorien, where he knew but had not many of
the elves that dwelt there.   The stretch of land between the two Valar realms
was great, but, for an elf, the distance was not vast.  Besides, the young
elfling relished the feel of the wind streaming through his hair as he ran. 
Glorfindel had been fascinated with the vast stretch of water upon his first
gaze, as he had not yet seen the sea.  He would often imagine Lorien’s lake as
the ocean that separated him from the view of Middle-earth far off the horizon;
though it was permitted, he had not yet dared to venture a swim within the cool
waters, but he had seen others do so.

Glorfindel had expected to be alone when he reached the lake.  Many often
visited the lake, but usually not at the same moment.  Each time he had been
there previously, Glorfindel had been the only elf in the vicinity.  He expected
the same today.  Instead, he found another elf by the water’s edge.  The elf was
as tall as he, but possessed dark hair and silvery gray-blue eyes; the hair was
loose and rippled in the faint wind that blew, swirling like waves around
curving shoulders.  Glorfindel found himself itching to touch the silky mane
that seemed to capture the light, and refusing to relinquish it.  The elf’s lean
form rested near the lake, one bared leg dangling into the cool liquid up to the
knee; the other rested on the ground, bent at the knee to support one elbow.  

The other elf didn’t seem to notice Glorfindel, immersed as he was in playing a
silver reed-shaped flute.  The melody was gentle and soothing; Glorfindel found
himself closing his eyes as he drowned in the song.  The music spoke of lands
unseen, lands calling, begging to be visited.  It told of lost places
uninhabited for ages, and of elves returning to their birthplaces ages later. 
It spoke of a wish, a desire to see such lands with one‘s own eyes.  Glorfindel
slowly began to realize that the song reflected the wishes of his heart and his
desire to see Middle-earth, which he had heard so much about.

Gently, the music began to fade away.  Glorfindel seemed unaware of the fact for
some while; he became alerted to the silence as someone cleared their throat. 
Slowly, he opened his eyes, and found himself gazing into the glittering orbs of
the other elf, who gave him a warm smile.  He returned the smile with one of his
own, suddenly feeling a little shy in the other’s presence.  The elf beckoned
him over; Glorfindel complied, settling down on the soft grass of the lake side. 
The ends of his long hair just brushed the water’s edge as he glanced down at
his reflection, the braid long undone during his run.

“Manna esselya?” the elf asked.  His voice was gentle and kind, much like his
music.  Glorfindel glanced up at him briefly before replying.

“Essinya Glorfindel,” the blond replied.  The elf smiled upon hearing him speak.

“Golden-haired.  It suits you.  Essinya Ecthelion.  Elen sila lumenn omentilmo,
Glorfindel.”

“Ta naa seasamin.”  Ecthelion smiled at his new companion.  The elf sitting next
to him couldn’t have been that much younger that he was, no more than ten years
or so.  Glorfindel’s hair was a rich, golden color, which, Ecthelion concluded,
meant he possessed some Vanyar blood.  It seemed to Ecthelion that Glorfindel
was rather shy around him, though he could not begin to guess why.  He decided
to strike up a conversation with Glorfindel in an effort to calm the other.

“Where do you come from, friend Glorfindel?” he asked.  “I have not seen you at
Lord Lorien’s lake before this day.”

“I have been here before,” Glorfindel replied, dipping a finger into the crystal
clear water and swirling it about a bit.  “I like to visit this lake; it is
always quiet and peaceful.  I live in Lord Manwe’s land, over that way.”  He
pointed in the direction he had come from.  Ecthelion gazed in the direction he
pointed before turning back to Glorfindel.

“’Tis far to travel from Lord Manwe‘s land to Lord Lorien‘s.  And, yet you make
the trip alone.”

“It is not so far, and it does not take long to travel the distance.  I like to
make the journey.  The wind feels delightful when I run.”  Ecthelion knew the
exhilaration that one could get from running, though he himself preferred the
feel of cool water against warm skin.  This golden-haired elf was beginning to
intrigue him; Ecthelion decided to press a few more questions.

“Do you not have any siblings, Glorfindel?  Parents?”

“I have parents, but no siblings.  You?”

“I have parents, and one brother, Astaldion.”

“What is he like?  Your brother, I mean.”  Ecthelion thought for a moment,
looking thoughtful as he tried to phrase his next words properly.

“He has already passed his majority.  Astaldion is valiant, like his name.  And,
he’s very kind.  He takes care of the other elflings and I without complaint. 
He rather enjoys being caretaker, I believe.  Ada is proud of him.”

“He is not proud of you?”

“He is.  We are different children, my brother and I.  Ada is proud of us both,
I believe.  You do not have siblings, Glorfindel?”  A shake of the head was his
answer.  “Do you not wish you had a brother or sister?”

“Sometimes.  But, it does not bother me too much.”

“I see.”  Glorfindel was beginning to find his new companion rather fascinating
during their exchange.  Ecthelion seemed different from all the other elves
Glorfindel had met so far.  His young mind couldn’t come up with a reason why,
but Ecthelion seemed to blend fierceness and determination with a gentle manner
and heart.  It helped that the dark-haired elf was close to Glorfindel’s age,
and of the same mindset.  He tilted his golden crown slightly as he began to
study his companion more closely.

Ecthelion, likewise, sat in silence observing the other.  Glorfindel was a
curious child, and very observant, he noted, as the blond elf’s eyes took in all
of Ecthelion’s form.  It was not unheard of for elves to travel from Manwe’s
land to Lorien’s, but here was one so young, and without the company of his
family.  Ecthelion deduced that Glorfindel had wandered off on his own; he was
expecting his companion’s parents to come seeking him out soon.

“What song were you playing?” Glorfindel asked suddenly, breaking the silence. 
“I have never heard it before.  Nana sings of many songs, and I have heard more
from others.  But, I have never heard the song which you have played.”

“That does not surprise me, meldir.  It is a song I created.  Does it remind you
of something?”  Glorfindel nodded.

“It reminded me of the stories my parents tell of the land called Middle-earth.”

“Ah, so you have heard such stories as well.  I am pleased, then, that my song
was so successful in it’s purpose.”

“What purpose was that?”

“To remind and console those who left that land so long ago, and to warm the
hearts of those who have not yet visited such lands.”  Ecthelion smiled warmly,
moving his leg ever so slightly to create small ripples on the water’s surface. 
“I have long desired to visit Middle-earth.  I have dreamt of walking the lands,
dancing and racing among the trees Lady Yavanna shaped there.  I have wished to
lie beneath the stars set in the sky by Lady Elbereth and count them long into
the night.  
“I do not know if I ever shall see Middle-earth, but I greatly desire to do so
one day.”  The young blond nodded.  He knew exactly how Ecthelion felt, for he
too harbored such wants and desires.  He loved Valinor, but Glorfindel also
wanted to see the land upon which his parents had awakened many years ago.

“Do you not like Valinor?” he ventured to ask Ecthelion.  The other elf gave him
another warm smile.

“I do.  It is a beautiful land, and the Valar are all kind and just in their
ways.  This land is suited to us elves, who love the stars and trees, open air
and vast spaces.  But, it is natural to have a desire to seek lands and places
one has heard so much about.  We all feel the need to return to places we have
been, reunite with old friends and meet new ones.  It is our way, the way of
life.”  Throughout the narration, Glorfindel listened with an attentive ear. 
Ecthelion seemed wise beyond his years, or he was merely thoughtful and
considered his words carefully before speaking them aloud.  Whichever was the
case, it was evident that the elves’ trains of thought flowed in a similar
direction.

“Tell me something, Glorfindel.”  Ecthelion’s musical voice broke Glorfindel out
of the revere he had slipped into.  “Do you have many friends?”

“Friends?  Not particularly.”

“Why is that?”  Glorfindel shrugged.  There wasn’t any specific reason why he
possessed so few friends.  There were few people who could fully understand what
Glorfindel thought and felt.  He was often cherished and respected, both as a
child and as someone who possessed some Vanyar blood.

“No one can keep up with me,” he finally answered simply.  Ecthelion arched a
delicately shaped eyebrow.

“No one can keep up with you?”  Glorfindel nodded.  He didn’t protest as
Ecthelion urged him closer.  Long, slim fingers dived into Glorfindel’s gold
mane, combing out tangles before re-braiding the tresses.

“Ada says I’m too active, even more an elf.  I always want to go off and
explore, run through the lands.  He’s scolded me for running off without
permission before.”  The young elf thought on the matter a little more before
shrugging.  “I think, though, it’s because most elves my age can’t associate
with how I feel.”

“How do you feel, meldir?”  Glorfindel sighed deeply.  Ecthelion waited for him
to continue whilst he smoothed out Glorfindel’s hair.

“I want to see Middle-earth,” he finally stated.  “I want to see the beauty my
parents remember.  It’s where we elves are really supposed to live, isn’t it?  I
mean, our parents woke up there.  It was created for us to live on.  Lord Manwe
has always said that the land was created and made for Iluvutar’s children.  We
are his children, so why do we not reside there?”

“There are many things that occur in this world that is beyond our control.” 
Ecthelion finished his Glorfindel’s hair, allowing the other to turn and fix him
with piercing blue eyes.  “Our fate is ultimately left up to Iluvutar and the
Valar.  The paths we walk to that fate are our own.  We make our own choices,
and must live by the consequences.
“Our parents chose to heed the calling of the Valar and come live in Valinor. 
Maybe, one day, another force will call us, the children, back to the lands were
meant for us to cultivate.  Have faith and patience, Glorfindel.  We have all
the time in the world.”  A small smile began to spread across Glorfindel’s face. 
The questions that had been eating at him, questions that belied his desires,
were answered now.  He felt calmer, more serene.  He thanked Ecthelion for that.

“Glorfindel!”  Off in the distance stood a tall elf, calling to the blond.

“Ada has come for me,” Glorfindel said, rising to his feet and dusting the grass
blades from his knees.  He turned to leave, but stopped and turned back to face
Ecthelion with questioning eyes.  “Will I see you again?”  

“Of course,” Ecthelion replied with a smile.  “Are we not friends?”  Blue eyes
widened at the question before a golden head bobbed enthusiastically in the
affirmative.  “Then we shall meet again.  I expect we shall see each other many
more times in the days to come.”  The thought seemed to please Glorfindel as his
eyes began to brighten at the prospect.  Ecthelion smiled up at him.  “Tenna’
ento l’ie omenta, Glorfindel.”

“Tenna’ san’, Ecthelion.”  With another happy smile, Glorfindel dashed off.  He
raced quickly up to his father, giving his parent an affectionate squeeze about
the waist.

“Who was that?” his father asked as they began the journey back towards Manwe’s
lands.

“A friend,” Glorfindel stately happily.

“You’ve made a friend?  That is good.  What is his name?”

“Ecthelion.”  He smiled again as Glorfindel heard Ecthelion playing his flute in
the distance.  He hoped to spend many more days in conversation with his new
friend.  Fate has an uncanny knack for granting such heartfelt wishes.

Translations:
Manna esselya?-What is your name?
Essinya Glorfindel/Ecthelion-My name is Glorfindel/Ecthelion
Elen sila lumenn omentilmo, Glorfindel-A star shines on the hour of our meeting,
Glorfindel
Ta naa seasamin-It is my pleasure
Astaldion-Valiant son
Ada-Father
Nana-Mother
Meldir-Friend
Tenna’ ento l’ie omenta, Glorfindel-Until next we meet, Glorfindel
Tenna’ san’, Ecthelion-Until then, Ecthelion