Once upon a time, there was a little elfling who lived in a big house with his mother, his father, his little sister, and his baby brother. He was very much loved by his parents, and loved them very much. There came a time when the elfling was old enough to find out about the history of his family, but he was not proud of some of it at all, because his father had kept a secret from him. He himself was keeping a secret from the rest of his family, and everyone who knew him. His father began to suspect, and things began to fall apart, one day at a time.

One day the boy decided to let them know the way he felt inside. He could not stand to hide it; his mother she broke down and cried.

"Why do you do this? Why do you disobey me?" demanded Angrod.

Glorfindel defiantly stood his ground. "I do not disobey you. I am telling you the truth. I can no longer suppress these feelings."

"It is wrong!"

"Killing is wrong!" Glorfindel shouted back, immediately regretting his words, and yet meaning them. His mother let out a wail, continuing to weep. Remorsefully, he wanted to run up to her, to climb in her lap as he would have done when he was not quite so tall, and not quite so old. Not that he was old- he had barely turned forty-one, though by his appearance and manners most mistook him for an elf reached his majority. Angrod shook his head and turned his back to Glorfindel. "It is wrong," stated Glorfindel. "You and all the rest were wrong to do it. You could have stopped yourselves. I can't stop this. I do not know why I am like this, but this is what I am and what I feel."

Angrod began to walk from the room, and Glorfindel rushed forward, touching his shoulder. "Oh, my father. Why don't you talk to me now? Speak with me, council me, then."

"You have made your choice," Angrod said, slapping the youth's hand away. "Such thoughts you should not have, but you will act upon them, and that is forbidden."

"Then help me!" pleaded Glorfindel as Angrod continued to walk away. He hung his head as his father left the room, and turned to see his mother, still sitting, still weeping, covering her face. "Nana, please, don't cry for me," he begged, lifting his sleeve to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

She enfolded him, pulling him tightly to her. "It isn't just you, I cry for all of the Teleri he and his kin killed," sobbed the Vanya.

Glorfindel wrapped his arms tightly around his mother, resting his golden head on her shoulder. "Oh, my mother. Do you still cry yourself to sleep?" he asked, knowing when he was very young he sometimes heard her crying on nights when his father was off on patrol. She nodded as her tears began to stream down her face anew. "I am so sorry you had to learn of this in this way," he apologized, stroking her cheek before he kissed it. Hesitantly, he asked, "Are you still proud of your little boy?"

His mother hugged him fiercely as they both heard the pounding of feet on the stairs. "He is coming," she said in a panic.

"Don't be afraid," whispered Glorfindel, hugging his mother one final time. "I shall go where he cannot find me."

"You don't have to hide away," his mother told him, trying to retain her grasp on her eldest child as he stood up.

Glorfindel shook his head sadly as the noise of his father came closer. "Pray for me," he said, squeezing her hand. "I love you. Tell the little ones I love them, and I do love father, too. Until I see you again, Nana," he said, and with his lip trembling, he pulled away from her and rushed out of the room, out of the house, out of the woods, and out of his home and his life forever.

The boy, he was rejected by the people that he cared for. It's not what they expected, but he could not keep it secret anymore. Angrod made sure that his younger children knew the reason for Glorfindel's departure, and the consequences of what he believed, of the words he said. Everyone in Angrod's realm knew of his reaction, and none dared even mention the subject.

Far from home now, waiting, he was all alone. Glorfindel wandered the wilderness in hopes of finding someone who would accept him and what he was when he came to a brilliant city. The elves there took him in without hesitation, and one particular lord adopted the frightened boy who pretended to be so bold. Ecthelion welcomed Glorfindel into his house and taught him everything, from politics and war to poetry and love. Glorfindel had not the heart to tell his benefactor of his true feelings when the pair courted maidens, nor did he dare rouse the suspicions of anyone, especially King Turgon, by acting otherwise. If King Turgon knew anything of Lord Angrod's son, he said nothing, and rewarded the youth with a place of honor in the guard and a post in a most revered position- Guardian of the Fifth Gate of Gondolin, before the city was even finished.

"Look out over all of it, Glorfindel," said Ecthelion excitedly, spreading his hand out before him. "The hidden city is complete. Is it not the most splendid view you have ever beheld?"

Glorfindel nodded in agreement, standing just to Ecthelion's right. Joyous dancing and celebration could be seen and heard in the streets below, but some of nobler rank stood watch from the balconies. Tonight, Glorfindel stood overlooking the city from the House of the Fountain. Tomorrow, things would be different.

"There's a new world," reminded Ecthelion, perhaps more excited than Glorfindel was. "You are no longer in the service of my house after tonight, pen-neth. Tomorrow, you shall rise and find yourself Lord of the House of the Golden Flower. A peculiar name, but an unforgettable one, and no sillier than Lord of the Fountain," he grinned.

"My father used to tell me a bedtime story," said the golden-haired elf. "In it, the sun was a giant golden flower, from the gold tree in Valinor. He would say that my face, when I smiled, reminded him of the sun, with my hair wild and glowing," he reminisced. Glorfindel shook the image from his head and admitted, "I am still unsure of it, of me being a lord of my own house. I would have more confidence if I stayed part of your household."

Ecthelion shook his head. "That is nonsense. You shall make a great lord; You can make it on your own. There are so many who are ready to follow you and who love you dearly as a fighter and a friend. I only wonder who you have your eye upon to be your lady," he smirked.

Glorfindel tried to force his eyes to the ground, but a flicker of light from a balcony near the King's own raised pavilion lifted his chin and caused him to seek out the object of his desire. Before he could turn away, he knew Ecthelion had seen, and he stepped back with shame upon his face.

"Oh, Glorfindel…" Ecthelion joined his former ward further back in the shadows. "Glorfindel, you must not say a word of it, if what I dare think is true."

Glorfindel's eyes betrayed him once again as he took in the form of the tall, dark mystery that retreated after a moment into the shadows of his own balcony. In a rush, the truth poured out from the lost child, from shaky words to hiccupped pleas for forgiveness of his sin. Ecthelion calmed Glorfindel best he could, now understanding the true reason for the wall that had been built around this elf.

"My dear friend, Turgon himself would see you slain for such thoughts. I myself see nothing wrong with it, but that is not a statement I am at leisure to make," he warned the younger elf.

"I suppose you're ashamed of me now," sobbed the elf, his golden hair blocking his face from Ecthelion's view.

"No, I am not shamed by you," Ecthelion responded. "No, pen-neth, you could not shame me, not by thoughts or by words. You are my pen- neth, my little boy, the closest I shall ever have to a son. You are dear to my heart and it pains me to see you are hurting over this."

"Are you still proud of your little boy?" mumbled Glorfindel, not really expecting an answer.

Ecthelion placed a hand upon Glorfindel's head. "Yes I am," he told him as he looked up. "Don't be afraid. You don't have to hide away."

"So I should tell him-"

"No," Ecthelion said sternly. "Not now, not yet. You would condemn yourself, and perhaps him as well. You must say nothing."

"But I love him!"

Ecthelion shushed Glorfindel by clamping his hand over the younger's mouth. "I understand. But he may not, and Turgon will not, and many will be against you. This is not the time or place," reasoned Ecthelion as he removed his hand.

Glorfindel took a labored breath. "What if I accidentally slip? What if one day I learn he is as interested as I am?"

"Perhaps one day. But not now. If you say anything now, you sentence yourself to death." Ecthelion sat down next to Glorfindel, and gave him a little hug. "Don't be afraid. Love will mend your broken wing. Time will slip away; Learn to be brave. This cannot last forever. Someday, if the Valar will it. Not now, Glorfindel. Not now."

A great battle took place in the city of Gondolin where Glorfindel and Ecthelion lived. Little did they know when the battle began that they would meet again not in the halls of their beloved realm, but in the halls of waiting. There were others, many others, and also those who had perished before Gondolin fell. Among them, the parents of an elfling who ran away from home because he could not be accepted for what he was. So often in the still nothingness he had finally come to accept, he would call out to them, knowing they were there, hoping they would answer.

"Oh, my father, why don't you talk to me now? Oh, my mother, do you still cry yourself to sleep? Are you still proud of your little boy?"

Time and again he called to them, but there was no response. He yearned to weep, to curl into a ball, to hide in a corner, but none were possible. So he continued to call out in hopes someone would call back. Finally, he received an answer.

~Don't be afraid. You don't have to hide away.~

There was nothing familiar about the voice, but there was something comforting about it as it continued.

~Don't be afraid. Love will mend your broken wing. Time will slip away. Learn to be brave.~

"Ecthelion?"

~No, you are not in his house, my child, you are in mine.~

"Namo."

~I have something to give to you. Something to give you hope.~

What Glorfindel was given gave him hope, and light, and happiness for all the long years he would spend waiting until he was reawakened. It was something so simple, and something indescribable, and something he would cherish forever.

"Did you know? Did you really know what he gave you?" asked Erestor. Glorfindel nodded as Erestor bowed his head and sniffled. When he looked up again, there were tears streaming from the corners of his eyes. "Why didn't you just tell me when you returned?"

"Darling, my dear one," began Glorfindel, lifting his sleeve to wipe away his husband's tears, "how was I to tell you? I feared to tell you," he further admitted. "I feared to tell you, because I nearly told you once before, before we were parted for so long."

"What? When?" demanded Erestor in a quiet voice.

Glorfindel closed his eyes, tears welling behind the lids, weeping out involuntarily. "The day after it happened," he cried in anguish. "The Gates of Summer. I was going to tell you. I didn't care. I couldn't-" Glorfindel opened his eyes, drawing Erestor tightly to him, looking up into the glistening chocolate orbs. "I couldn't live another day without you," he said, touching ebony tresses reverently while his other hand was pressed against Erestor's back. "I felt that I would die without you. Erestor, I love you so very much."

"Oh, my," whispered Erestor, his arms wrapped firmly around Glorfindel. "My sweet savior, my love. I can't express how much I love you, Glorfindel. I don't know how I survived without you."