{ How is it that I have never noticed those eyes before? }
Then Melpomaen broke the spell by rising and clumsily wiping at those jewelled orbs with the back of his hand, embarrased at being caught crying like an elfling.
{ And by him! Why, out of all the elves in Imladris, did it have to be him?! }
Mortified, the young elf made to leave the gazebo, only to be stopped as Glorfindel blocked his way.
" Why do you weep pen-neth? Is it because of my harsh words earlier?" Glorfindel asked. " Or is it because of Erestor?."
A sudden, inexplicable surge of jealousy hit him as he asked that last question.
{ What in the Valar?!..." }
Glorfindel was utterly taken aback by this surge of emotion, unaware of the deep scowl that had come over his face.
Melpomaen looked up at the fierce visage of the Balrog Slayer and opened his mouth to plead for mercy.
" Go kiss an orc!" Is what came out instead.
Glorfindel was stunned. But not nearly as stunned as Melpomaen, whose eyes had gone as big as saucers.
" My Lord! I...I am so sorry, I don't know..." The young elf squeaked.
Then, to his further horror, he broke down in tears all over again.
Acting on impulse, Glorfindel wrapped his arms around the assistant and drew him close. Melpomaen sank into the embrace, burying his face against the taller elf's chest as he began to sob in earnest. The golden Lord rested his chin atop the elf's tawny head, marvelling at how right it felt to hold that trembling body. One of his hands began to rub gently along Melpomaen's back.
" Shhh...It's alright pen-neth. Everything is going to be all right. Erestor will be fine, you shall see..." Glorfindel soothed.
With a little sniffle, Melpomaen lifted his head to look at the seneschal.
" He will?"
Glorfindel gazed down into the glistening violet eyes.
" You must love him greatly." He murmured, somewhat sadly.
" Love?..."
The young assistant looked confused for a moment, then blushed furiously as he caught Glorfindel's meaning.
" Nay! I do not love Lord Erestor. I admire him! He is my...hero." Melpomaen finished, lamely.
Another inexplicable surge, this time of relief, hit Glorfindel and he brought his free hand up, cupping the young elf's face as his thumb traced, feather light, over one tear-stained cheek.
" You know pen-neth.." He said, smiling gently. " No one has ever had the gumption to tell me to go kiss an orc before."
Only the hand still cupping his face prevented the assistant from ducking his head again, as his lower lip quivered in contrition.
It was that lip that proved to be Glorfindel's undoing.
Before his mind could protest his actions, he lowered his head and claimed Melpomaen's lips with his own. The shy assistant stiffened in surprise, then returned the kiss with a fervor that astounded the Balrog Slayer. The younger elf tangled his fingers in the Lord's golden mane, moaning wantonly against the taller elf's mouth as he yielded to the invading tongue. The sound of those moans sent a bolt of desire straight to Glorfindel's shaft, which hardened in response. His hands reached around to cup Melpomaen's backside, as he began to grind his hips against the slighter elf. At that contact, Melpomaen threw his head back, the sensations pulsing along his own throbbing hardness quickly overwhelming him.
" My Lord!...I...can't...I... am...going to...Ai! Valar!."
The young elf exploded with a loud sob, spilling his wetness to soak over the front of both of their tunics. The bolt of desire between Glorfindel's legs was overcome by a wave of tenderness that enveloped his heart as he realized that Melpomaen, despite his surprisingly passionate nature, was still quite inexperienced. The fierce warrior tightened his embrace, lovingly raining soft kisses upon the tawny head as the young elf rode out the last tremors of his release. When it was over, Melpomaen kept his forehead planted firmly against the Lord's chest, refusing to meet the eyes he was sure were filled with disgust.
" I am sorry... I haven't... I've never...You must think I am such a foolish elfling." The assistant sighed, heavily.
" You are no elfling, and I think no such thing."
Glorfindel tilted the younger elf's chin up so he could look once more into that face.
" There is no shame in inexperience Melpomaen."
" But..."
" No buts. The art of joining is one that requires many, many hours of joyful practice." The golden Lord gave his smaller partner a lopsided grin.
Melpomaen's tentative return smile did not reach his doubt-filled eyes.
" I am not worthy of such practice." The young elf said, sadly.
Glorfindel's eyes widened in surpise.
" What makes you say such a thing? Have you ever tried?" He asked.
" Twice." Melpomaen nodded. " Once with an elleth. Then, some years later, with an ellon. And with both I proved to be a... disappointment." He finished bitterly.
" What happened?" Glorfindel prodded.
" Nothing! Nothing happened!"
Melpomaen suddently wrenched away from the seneschal's embrace.
" Just like nothing happened here! Because I am no good!... Because I spill too soon..." That last was said in a whisper of self-loathing.
Glorfindel took a step towards the young elf, who backed away with an angry cry.
" Nay! I do not want your pity. Leave me be!"
And with those words, Melpomaen turned and fled from the garden, leaving the Balrog Slayer to stare after him with a frown on his face.
TBC...