2. Mereth Aderthad
The feast had been a grand success, and it went on for several days as all the people in attendance rejoiced in peace and freedom and the exhilaration of celebrating newfound friendships and the end of war. Fingolfin made several speeches on the subject of reunification every time the throngs of people came together for dinner. The first time that Maglor and Daeron sang their song, entitled "Hand in Hand," it was so well received that they were asked to sing it several more times over the gloriously heady days that followed, and were enthusiastically asked if they would compose more music together. The two minstrels happily agreed to do so.
Maglor had been sharing a tent with Maedhros but his brother had not been sleeping there. Maglor invited Daeron to join him in order to collaborate on their new songs. Several times they worked hard through the night on their music, and fell asleep together, exhausted.
One such time Maedhros returned from his celebrations in the early hours of morning for a change of clothing and discovered Maglor and Daeron asleep in the tent, surrounded by scattered sheets of parchment. Daeron's harpwas enfolded in his arms and Maglor lay beside the Sinda with one foot resting atop Daeron's leg. Maedhros smiled at the peaceful look upon his brother's face, and made sure that he spoke to him about it later.
"My dear brother," he said to Maglor as the two bathed together in one of the freshwater pools, lying back and allowing the sparkling crystal water to envelop their bodies in its refreshing embrace. "It has not gone beyond my notice that your spirits have become much improved since our arrival here. I feel that it must be due to the skilful attention of your little Sindarin minstrel. Please remind me to thank him the next time I see him."
Maglor, annoyed by the veiled inference, retorted, "How is cousin Findekáno? You seem to have monopolized his attention here, for I have not seen either of you since we first arrived."
"He is well," replied Maedhros nonchalantly, refusing to nibble at Maglor's bait. "Oh, look. There is your minstrel now, in the company of his Sindarin soldier." A motion of his copper head drew Maglor's attention to the grassy bank where Daeron walked with Mablung, accompanied by a mixed group of both Noldor and Sindar. The group stopped several yards away from the pool and continued their lively conversation.
The two brothers regarded the group from where they bathed, letting the chest-high waves lap against their bodies as they stirred the water with their feet. Maglor noticed that as Daeron spoke in an animated manner to the others, Mablung would laugh out loud at intervals. Every time he did so, he would either clasp Daeron around the neck and shake him slightly, or he would bump against him with his hip, causing Daeron to stumble, laugh, and then elbow Mablung in the ribs in return. Mablung was very attractive, and very masculine for a Sinda, Maglor thought. His hair was dark, almost as dark as a Noldo's, and his bright blue eyes flashed when he was excited. He was large for a Sinda, well-built and muscular, as befitted his warrior status.
Every time that Daeron and Mablung touched each other, Maglor felt a pang of hurt in his belly, and then was angry with himself for feeling upset by the thought that Daeron and Mablung might possibly be lovers. When he thought about it rationally, he remembered that Daeron had told him Mablung's romantic interests lay elsewhere, and that he, also, loved another who was unattainable. Maglor vowed to question Daeron again about this mysterious love interest.
"His soldier friend is very comely, don't you think?" Maedhros asked in a teasing manner. "Are you jealous of him?"
Maglor spurted water out of his mouth and nose in a derisive snort. He had ducked underwater and now rose and shook his wet hair, spraying droplets over Maedhros' upper body. "He is not half as attractive as our cousin Findekáno," he retorted, vowing not to let Maedhros get the better of this jesting match. "But you would know more than I any intimate details of our cousin's beauty," he said finally, and was rewarded by a flashing spark of anger in Maedhros' eyes.
The red-headed Elf grasped Maglor by the shoulder and began to propel him toward the shore. "Come on," he said. "Let us go to greet your little Sinda. Let him see you in all your glory. He should be quite impressed if he has not already seen it."
Those on the bank turned to watch the two Noldorin brothers emerge from the water. After a brief shoving match in which the group of Elves was treated to a display of lean muscles and long, sinewy limbs being flexed in a series of pushes, thrusts and jabs, Maedhros and Maglor stopped to pick up their clothing from atop a rock and dress themselves. The two tall Noldorin princes had impressed the Sindarin Elves with their stature and appearance. Although Maedhros, the taller of the two, possessed hair of a glorious auburn-red and was of magnificent form, Maglor was also strikingly handsome, slender and lithe, with a rich mane of dark, almost-black hair, and deep, dark eyes set in an expressive, soulful face. Daeron stared long in appreciation at his newfound friend and collaborator. When the two Noldorin brothers finished dressing and had joined the other Elves, Daeron and Maglor exchanged glances. Both were aware that he felt something unusual for the other.
Later, while they were busy collaborating on their new song that they tentatively called "Harmonious Lives", Maglor bluntly asked Daeron about the statement he had made at their first meeting, concerning his inaccessible love.
"She is the King's daughter", Daeron replied. "I believe she is too good for me, although we are friends and I see her almost every day. We used to play together as children. I have known her and loved her all of my life."
"Is it a love born more out of friendship than lust?" asked Maglor, feeling that bluntness was serving him well as it brought Daeron out of his shell.
"Ah, but she is the most beautiful maiden in existence," enthused Daeron. "You should see her, Maglor. There could not be a man that lives who would not fall in love with her at first sight."
Maglor gave a deep sigh. "I loved a maid as well once", he said, "but she stayed behind in the Blessed Realm. She would not join me on the march. I am afraid that my brothers and I have made many enemies, and for me, every single one is regrettable."
Daeron looked at him, sad eyes becoming deeper and darker in sympathy. He put a soft hand upon Maglor's arm. "Do not despair, friend Maglor", he said gently, running his hand along Maglor's sleeve. "You may do well from now on to atone for your misadventures of the past. But let us not dwell on that, while there are happier thoughts to have."
"Now what would those happier things be?" asked Maglor, his voice a mere whisper as he stared into the bewitching hazel eyes of the Sindarin minstrel. And then Daeron began to softly hum a lovely tune that had eluded him previously as they worked on their new song.
"That is the melody!" cried Maglor. "You have found it!" He happily grasped a sheaf of parchment to write down the notes that he heard from Daeron's lips. After the song was finished and put in writing, Daeron looked at Maglor with consternation on his face.
"I fear the song is not quite finished," he said sadly. It is lacking. It needs something that has been eluding me: something deeper, something more heartfelt."
"What is this deep, heartfelt thing?" asked Maglor, feeling exhilarated by the work they had just accomplished together, and yet frustrated by Daeron's dissatisfaction.
"It is knowledge, I feel; a certain kind of knowledge, of another person, of his soul, of his body, his physical presence, but also of his mind and his heart. A knowledge of body and soul together", Daeron repeated, looking both far away and within himself.
"You mean a marriage", stated Maglor. "Do you mean that if you had wed the king's daughter that you say you love hopelessly, then that experience would have given you more depth of knowledge that you could put into your composition?"
"Possibly", Daeron agreed. "It is not quite good enough to write songs of fear and loss and the sadness of unrequited love, but what of joyful songs of the knowledge of a deeper love? A realized love? I have never had that experience, and thus I do not feel my music is as profound as it could be or as I would like it to be. Yours, on the other hand ---," his voice trailed off as Maglor stared at him intently.
"You are a virgin then?" asked Maglor.
Daeron, shocked by the abrupt question, nodded silently. At length, he asked, "You are not?" although his was more a statement than a question.
"No," said Maglor. "I was married before. I know the joys of love with a maid. But there are other kinds of love that one can feel." He moved closer to Daeron, and as the smaller Elf looked at him questioningly, he bent and placed his lips upon those of the minstrel. He savoured the feel of the soft, moist flesh of his new friend's mouth for a moment, and then pulled away reluctantly. He looked searchingly into Daeron's eyes to see if the Sinda was upset or shocked by what he had done. Daeron looked puzzled at first and then confused, Maglor thought. But then he grabbed Maglor in a sudden embrace that surprised the Noldo with its ferocity. He pressed his lips firmly, passionately, upon Maglor's again, and the two Elves lost themselves in the lust they felt for each other.
That first time was a coming together of pure lust, of the desire to explore each other's bodies passionately, and of the lust to fulfil each other's need. They were wanton, abandoned, noisy and violent in the love they made to each other that first time. Silky skin created friction against satiny skin. Soft lips yielded to hard flesh. Searching hands explored private places with aching intimacy. Lithe limbs intertwined. That first tryst lasted for several intense hours, each Elf pleasurably battering the other until finally, sweaty and sated, they fell asleep naked and spent in each other's arms.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.