Title: Dreaming of Idril
Chapter: 1/1
Genre: Slash
Pairing: Maeglin (Lord of the Mole, Prince of Gondolin)/Galdor, probably every
other Gondolindrim visits as well...
Warning: drunken elves?
Rated: probably R-ish
Summary: Young Galdor runs literally into Maeglin and looses his innocence..
Disclaimer: *sigh* none of them mine...
Author's notes: All that know me longer, have long heard that I am
Maeglin-ophile". Here we do not find him with another Lord, but with a twink"
that meets totally his taste...Story will be found later, when betaed here
http://www.orgsites.com/wa/maeglin/index.html
Finally snow was falling from the dark grey skies of Beleriand. Once again the streets of Gondolin were going to be hidden under the soft and thick blanket of white snow. Maeglin was rejoicing. Came winter, he was feeling better. He hated the summer months when the air in the valley of Tumladen was filled with uncountable bugs that tried to suck one’s blood. He then would hide from the world at all and climbed down into the depths of his mines where he dug for ore.
As soon as the skies turned grey and seemed to drop down on the elves, Maeglin always had disappeared to his self chosen underground exile. He now inhaled the crisp air deep and felt free. Snowflakes as big as they could get were gently coming down and covered Maeglin’s shiny black hair. It was wet from the amount of snow that had already fallen on and melted on his head, since he had left the forge. Purposely he had taken three detours back to the House of the Mole. On the market place below his house he had stopped and had purchased a simple gift for his house keeper. He had not seen his maid in months and wanted to see her smile.
Snow and ice, temperatures way below freezing point, the sound of heavy working boots on solid frozen water puddles and the gem like sparkling of the snow when it was really cold, that was the time that made Maeglin happy, made him smile, made him really easygoing compared to his sour moods that he normally showed. Well, he always had been a lovely elf and he still was rather young compared to his uncle or his cousin Idril. Maeglin just had past the turn of his first century. But ever since he had come to Gondolin his smiles had seized.
How desperate had he been to see the light, to walk under the open skies, to rid himself of all the trees of Nan Elmoth. Having lost both parents within less than a day time passing, and then Idril’s loathing of him that had made Maeglin grow cold and sad. In the centuries later and in the lore that was sung, some even said he had gone insane because of her love not being returned to him.
Anyway that day Maeglin was bartering with one of the sellers that stood behind a booth and tried to sell small glass ornaments. From the corner of the eye he saw some other elves but did not pay attention to them. They were young, probably in their early eighties and still very playful as they where merrily engaged in a snow ball fight.
The seller at the neighbour booth yelled maledictions at them when a rather large snow ball hit his goods and sent several colourful bottles of homemade liquor crashing to the ground. Maeglin smiled because he remembered that he once had played just like them himself with his friends back in Nan Elmoth.
He turned and left when one of the young elves ran into him. The impact was so heavy that Maeglin lost his balance and swinging his arms he landed right next to the ellon in the snow.
On any other day he probably would have taken the ellon and beaten the living daylight out of him. Instead Maeglin laughed loud and grabbed a handful snow. He flung himself on top of the youth and rubbed the snow onto his cheeks with the result that the young ellon was squalling like a piglet and tried to playfully fight the way taller and heavier built Maeglin.
The Lord of Gondolin grabbed the other ellon’s hand and jerked him to his feet. That was the moment that Maeglin’s eyes grew wide for a moment, just long enough to realize that this young ellon was the most beautiful ellon he had met ever since he came to Gondolin.
“I am sorry my lord to have run into you. I am so sorry…I did not mean to.”
Maeglin shook his head and grinned broad, surprised that the young elf tried to be polite now that he had recognized who he had wrestled in the snow with Instead of yelling at him, Maeglin openly gazed over the light blonde hair that shone in the light just like Idril’s and he was nearly hypnotized by the darkest blue eyes he ever had seen, of course ever since he had first seen Idril’s. That young ellon was what Maeglin considered the fragile male version of Idril. And he was tempted to take a strand of this extreme light, shoulder long hair and curl it between his fingers.
Maeglin decided to stay longer with the young elves and even ended up at another booth with them where they he bought for all of them mulled wine. Maeglin recognized Voronwe among them. He was the son of his co-smith Aranwe But repeatedly his eyes found the light blonde ellon. While he stayed with them and was merrily involved in the chatting, he tried to find out more about the young elf, which woke feelings in him, of which he had thought they were long dead.
The name of the young elf was Galdor. He had been born and raised in Gondolin by a Teleri mother and a Noldo father, had recently finished his warrior training in Turgon’s barracks, belonged to the House of the Harp and now was desperately looking to find a position as a scribe in one of the lordly houses of Gondolin. And what had stunned Maeglin when he had looked at him for the first time was exactly what had been driving Galdor nearly crazy. He lamented over having been compared to Idril often not knowing Maeglin could not take his eyes off him, for just the same reason.
Just before dusk Maeglin finally made it back to his house. The maid was all excited over the small gift that he brought. Already in the early morning hours she had seen the snow falling and she had known her master would finally come home. She seemed to be flying like a humming bird around him. The elleth was about to serve the dessert she had prepared for her master when the giant door was pushed open.
“Ah! Look who is back! Our lordling, who really deserves to be called Lord of the Mole, since he is a mole, has surfaced again! Maeglin! Let me hug you!” Glorfindel hollered through the main dining room while he strode towards the table on which Maeglin took his dinner. He grabbed him and pulled him into a friendly embrace and kissed him noisily and terribly wet on both cheeks. Behind him came Salgant, Duilin, who was the leader of the house of the Swallow and Rog, strongest of all elves ever wandered through Beleriand.
Maeglin enjoyed seeing them and letting him being hugged and kissed. They sat down with him and shooed his house keeper back to the kitchen to bring more food, ales and wine for them as well. An hour later the elves were already making plans where they would spend the rest of the night.
The maid came from the kitchen once again to ask which wishes the Gondolindrim also had, but she was too late. The last thing she saw was the heavy door being slammed shut and she only heard Rog calling the other elves to follow him down to the “Old Dwarf”, their favourite tavern.
It was only a twenty minute walk from the House of the Mole to the tavern. Had any lady guests been with then, they would have preferred to ride in carriage or on horse back to get down there, while the four elves always walked. They talked on their way down the whole time and that way Maeglin learned the latest gossip of Gondolin. Several times his eyes grew big.
And while they chatted and giggled and pushed each other into the snow, Maeglin felt life slowly warming up inside of him again. Glorfindel pushed the door to the tavern open. The air was heavy with the scent of food, stale ale, spilled wine and elves of all kinds and heritages. They made their way between the tables to one in the back that was still empty. At this late hour of the day it was not too easy get an unoccupied spot. Maeglin nodded his greetings to Erestor and his brother who were noisily playing cards with Ecthelion. Gilgwaloth was dealing out.
They passed Egalmoth who was deep in a discussion with an ellon, of who Glorfindel knew dealt with livestock. On another table Penlod was heavily flirting with an ellith of average looks and Rog grinned when he discovered that she even was missing her front teeth. Closer to the back of the place Aranwe and two friends of his were throwing darts. They had a new game found
Maeglin was really surprised because it seemed nearly every lord of Gondolin had come to the tavern that night. The elves started one drinking game after the other and got tipsy. A movement at the door caught Maeglin’s attention. His keen sight, that had given him his name, did never miss anything that might have been important for him. That is why he recognized instantly the young elf that entered the tavern.
Later that night Maeglin was not able to recall what exactly he had said to Galdor, but he had managed to drag him to the bar and instantly had forgotten his friends in the tavern.
He invited Galdor to drink with him. Being so much stronger and also more used to drinking, Maeglin cunningly ordered one shot after the other for his young companion. Not heavily drunk like some other elves next to them, but already quiet tipsy they talked about winter, snow and ice, hunting game and roasting chestnuts in the fire. Maeglin had to confess that he grew very fond of Galdor that night.
A hand suddenly pinched Maeglin’s butt hard and a kiss was pressed on his cheek. Glorfindel now was leaving with some other elves.
“Will I see you later?” He whispered and winked.
Maeglin understood the meaning well but shook his head and Glorfindel gazed over Galdor. He lowered himself down to Maeglin, who was sitting and whispered into his ear “Look at that hair, that skin and those lips. They are like a cherry, ripe for the picking.” Wishing him lots of joy he waved at the two ellyn and left.
Tturning back to Galdor, Maeglin openly gazed over his beauty. Galdor suddenly caught Maeglin’s hand. He confessed about his longing to meet him personally, since he had seen him first some years ago, standing next to Turgon’s throne. Maeglin felt himself melting though he did not know if this was the amount of mulled wine and booze or all the compliments. He seriously enjoyed them and thought to get dizzy. He knew though for sure, that the young elf was heavily drunken.
Maeglin filled their glasses again and encouraged his new companion to drink Galdor lost all his shyness. At some point he cupped Maeglin’s face and feeling no resistance, he pulled him closer over to his bar stool and kissed him gently on the lips. Surprised as Maeglin was I first was over the bold behaviour of the youth, he was not upset at all instead he answered him hungrily. He wrapped his arm around the narrow waist of the ellon and pulled Galdir into a tight embrace.
“Hey! Maeglin! Getting busy again?” someone yelled . Galdor blushed and smiled at him. Maeglin was annoyed but did not answer instead his latest conquest wrapped his arms around his neck again. His lips locked with Galdor Maeglin paid their bill blind.
“Let’s go to my house. It is not that far.”
They still heard the cheering behind them when they left the tavern. He knew that gossip would spread over Gondolin in no time. As soon as we were outdoors Galdor was more or less jumping at Maeglin. Maybe it was Maeglin’s cunning mind or Galdor’s crush on the elven lord or maybe it was just the lust that drove them to each other.
The stumbled over the fresh snow. There was a corner where Maeglin pinned Galdor against the wall and his hands were all over him. Exact that moment he realized that this young ellon was still rather innocent but eager to learn more. Galdor had his arms again around Maeglin when unlocked the maid unlocked the door. Kissing they dropped into the house, ignoring the blushing elleth that retreated to her chambers in no time again. They lost their cloaks in the entry of the main chamber and Galdor’s tunic landed on one of the chairs. His breeches were on the ground, Maeglin’s leggings landed in front of the fireplace.
On his divan he began to explore the young elf who moaned under the elf lord’s tender treatment. Maeglin knew that he was going to be on top. Therefore he wanted to have the young elf happy before he was going to experience the surprise that Maeglin had for him..
He performed art on his new lover. With big eyes Galdor watched how Maeglin got up and reached for his breeches. He took a tiny vial out and that was the moment that both elves became sober from their drunken state of mind. Maeglin pulled Galdor down on his nude body and kissed him again.
“I never was with an ellon before, please be gentle with me.”
+++
The sun was yet not rising when Maeglin pulled the pelts over him and Galdor Exhausted the young elf slept snuggling close to him. The elven lord held him tight and he again was surprised how fragile Galdor’s body seemed. He was a twink the way Maeglin loved them. Only looking at the hair Maeglin swallowed hard. He knew he could not claim Galdor again just because he thought of Idril but he got aroused again.
When he pet Galdor’s shoulder, he suddenly saw the red bite marks that the elf had self-inflicted on his arm. He had tried to overpower the excruciating pain that he had experienced when he lost his innocence to Maeglin. Galdor moaned in his sleep.
Maeglin whispered into the darkness “Consider yourself hired as my new scribe, Galdor.” He kissed him on the cheek and dreamed of Idril again.