Refuge For A King

Posted: May 2004
Title: Refuge for a King
Author: Alex
Type: FCS
Characters: Gil-galad and OCM
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters except Eglachen, nor do I profit from them.
Warnings: Death
Spoilers: For the Silmarillion perhaps.
Beta: Larian Elensar
Summary: This is the story of Gil-galad's first love.
Author's Note: This story takes place in the First Age and began as a tiny bunny in an RPG chat and grew into a full blown story. I'd like to thank Claudielf for his wonderful help in naming my Eglachen, which means forsaken child. And I'd like to thank Larian for straightening me out. Even though Eglachen is an original character, I have tried to stay within canon as much as possible.

~~~

Ereinion thought he would never get used to these elves, these Sindar elves. But he was thankful for somewhere safe to live. He had been brought to live with Cirdan here in the Falas. He had been told since he was an elfling that he must be brave, being the future king of the Noldor.

He often sat alone, saying little to anyone. No one knew that he often cried himself to sleep at night. He knew that he was an adult and should not give in to such weakness but he was lonely. He had ever been a quiet child who had grown into a quiet youth. He wanted to go home.

But his home no longer existed.

"There you are, my lord. I have been looking for you. It is time for your lessons."

Ereinion looked up into the most beautiful face he had ever seen and blushed.

Eglachen was his tutor. The scholar taught him the bloody history of his people as well as that of Cirdan's people, the Sindar. He shared poetry and song with the lonely young Noldo, songs of his own heritage and people, for Eglachen, like Ereinion, was a refugee. His parents had died during the first Kinslaying and he did not remember them. Indeed, he did not remember his own name and had been called Eglachen, which meant 'forsaken child,' a name that fit him well.

The young king could not suppress the tiny thrill he always felt when he saw Master Eglachen. He found it humorous that the other young elves feared the stern Noldo. To him, the strict and serious instructor was sheer perfection.

He was a good student, better than most, simply because he wanted to please his teacher. He often felt like a prisoner here rather than a guest and Eglachen was the only one who made it bearable to live here.

"Master Eglachen, do you feel like an outsider among them?"

"Them?"

"All the elves who live here?"

"I do sometimes. But Cirdan was kind to me. He gave me a home in exchange for my skills as a scribe and he has treated me as if I were of his own family."

Ereinion felt shamed that he had complained about one who had been so good to him and he turned his head.

The hand surprised him on his shoulder. "Do not be shamed by the way you feel. It will make you always remember the kindness of strangers. Perhaps someday you can offer the same to someone in need."

He nodded and they continued their lesson.

Late that night, in his room, his face burned as his hand slipped almost of its own accord, down his belly and under the loose trousers he wore to sleep in. He was hard and ready as he grasped the stiff shaft he sought. Shame burned in him as he began to move his hand up and down his silken length, shame at the picture in his mind's eye, an image of himself on his hands and knees and Master Eglachen buried deep inside him, thrusting powerfully into him over and over.

"Eglachen," he whispered as his seed spilled over his hand, soiling his trousers. He slipped them off and curled up into a ball and cried himself to sleep. Again.

Days ran into months and months into years but little changed. Ereinion became known more and more as Gil-Galad and he began to mature into the elf who would become king.

He still loved Master Eglachen.

And he still kept that secret close to his heart.

**

Morgoth never rested in his quest to rid Middle Earth of his brothers' and sisters' beloved elves and his quest eventually came to the Falas. And it came brutally. The fiends of Morgoth swept down upon the Falas. They besieged the cities with fire and their mighty engines of war. They laid waste to the Havens.

Gil-galad wanted to stay and fight, and he did fight in the initial skirmishes but Cirdan pulled him back, told him to make for the ships.

"Where is Master Eglachen?" Gil-galad was black with Orc blood as he ran up to Cirdan, panicking because he could not find his teacher.

"He is fighting too. He will come if he is able," Cirdan answered honestly. He did not think that the tutor turned warrior would make it out alive. His small band was on the east side of the city and that side appeared now to have been overrun by the enemy.

Gil-galad started to charge into the melee and work his way to Eglachen, but Cirdan nodded to two of his personal guard and they seized the young king.

"I am sorry, my young one, but you cannot go back. I was charged with your protection and protect you I must."

Gil-galad drew his sword, then slumped in defeat. He knew he could never harm this elf, who, out the goodness of his heart and his love for elves, had given him a home. He dropped his sword arm.

"Let us go, then, my Lord," he whispered.

The ship was crowded with several hundred elves but this was a pitiful amount when he thought about all the dead and dying left behind. When he thought about that one elf, in particular, left behind.

Gil-galad watched as they sailed away, the small flotilla that escaped the wrath of the fallen. There were small boats still catching up to them and Gil-galad's heart broke a little more with every one that did not yield the dark eyed Noldo who had captured his heart.

He was about to turn away, the sorrow too much to bear when he heard his name and looked out toward the sea. The little boat was almost upon them and it was a good thing too, as it was taking on water and all aboard looked wounded and weary. He saw him, saw Eglachen rowing hard.

His heart leapt for joy! His teacher was alive. He found himself promising that the sun would not set until he had told the other Noldo how much he loved him.

He almost tumbled overboard himself in his haste to help Eglachen on board. He grabbed the other elf by the hand and pulled him away from the crowd. He threw his arms around the bloody, filthy elf and kissed him.

Poor Eglachen pulled back, shocked.

"What are you doing, Ereinion?"

"I-I feared you were dead."

Eglachen looked at him oddly, but Gil-galad had made himself a promise.

"I told myself I would tell you of my feelings before this day was done. I have admired you these great many years, Master Eglachen...nay, I have loved you many years and I would... I want to..." the young elf's face began to fall when he saw the way Eglachen looked at him. He turned and ran, as far as the confines of the ship would let him. He found a place by the rail and watched silently as the cities of Brithombar and Eglarest burned. He refused to acknowledge the single tear that ran down his cheek.

**

Gil-galad slept in a tiny cabin that he was sure he had been given in deference to who he was but he was thankful for the privacy. He feared he had made a complete fool of himself and lost his tutor's respect in the process. He wished he had not been so foolish.

The knock on his door didn't surprise him.

"Come."

The elf who opened the door did. It was Cirdan. He sat on the edge of Gil-galad's bunk.

"Give him time, young one."

"Sir?"

"Eglachen, give him time. He doesn't trust easily. He has hurt much in his life. Do not give up."

" But how did you know? I never said anything to anyone."

Cirdan smiled and patted his knee. "You are younger than you know. Your emotions show through. No, I don't think he saw it... and I don't think he will say no to you. Right now, my young one, you need some rest." The tall elf patted his shoulder and left him, gently closing the door as Gil-galad lay down in his narrow bunk.

The next knock on his door didn't surprise him. He thought that Cirdan had returned. It was not Cirdan who opened the door. It was Eglachen, his dark eyes still unreadable. He came into the room.

"Are you well, Ereinion? You ran away... I..." The sentence trailed off as Eglachen crossed to the small bed and sat where Cirdan had sat moments before. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I...perhaps you are just infatuated with me."

"No, I love you. Nothing will change that, nothing."

The older elf simply nodded. He moved up on the bed and lay down beside Gil-galad. He did not kiss him, instead, pulled the younger elf's head onto his shoulder. "Rest now, Ereinion, rest."

Ereinion slept.

Gil-galad was surprised to find the other elf still in his bed when he woke. He wasn't sure what to do so he just lay there. In the night, he had moved onto his back and Eglachen had thrown an arm and leg rather possessively across him. The weight of the scribe's limbs was sweet to him as he watched the other elf sleep, his dark eyes glazed with reverie.

He must have drifted off again because the next thing he knew, Eglachen was shaking him gently. "It is time to break our fast, Ereinion. I have brought bread and honey."

Gil-galad didn't even ask how such precious commodities were to be had onboard the ship. He sat up and rubbed his eyes and smiled. He ate hungrily of the bread handed to him and drank from the goblet of wine that Eglachen had poured. He was so hungry that he didn't even notice that his tutor just watched him. When he finally did notice, he asked, "Are you not eating? I am sorry that I have acted such a pig."

Eglachen smiled and wiped a bit of honey from the corner of Ereinion's mouth and licked his finger. "I have already eaten," he said when in truth, he had only the drop of honey he licked from his fingers.

**

They sailed for several days and landed upon the island of Balar. It was not an uncharted or uninhabited island but there was not enough lodging for the hundreds of elves who made landfall with Cirdan. Groups were organized to build temporary lodgings, find food, and to fortify their small compound.

Everyone was busy; not even the young Noldor king was spared his labor as they quickly made a small town. He had little time to think of the past or his seemingly futile love for Eglachen. But time did pass and the new Haven was built.

The elves of the Havens decided to celebrate their first year in their new home and to honor the memory of those who died at the hand of Morgoth and his evil minions. There would be feasting and singing and the telling of tales. Gil-galad found himself being drawn into the excitement. Perhaps he might try to entice Eglachen to notice him. He had a beautiful navy blue tunic made for himself. It was decorated with designs of silver and gold threads throughout. Beneath it he wore a very dark blue undertunic and tan suede leggings with his customary black boots. He looked every inch the royalty that he was.

His hands trembled as he dressed. He hoped that he had the nerve to at least approach the handsome scribe. He had had little contact with his friend in the last year, both of them busy at various projects that seemed to keep them apart from one another.

Gil-galad still had not shared himself with another. He had offers since they had come to this new home. He had even entertained the idea of gaining a bit of experience with one or two of the others but when it came down to it, he had no heart for anyone but Eglachen.

The festival went long into the night. Gil-galad sat at Cirdan's table and was surprised to see Eglachen seated to his left. The tutor normally sat with the other scribes and scholars.

"How are you, Master Eglachen? I have not seen you in some time. You look well."

"We are finally getting some scrolls and books for the library and there is always a lot of tutoring to do. I have missed you being one of my students."

Gil-galad smiled. "I have missed you as well."

They talked of things of no consequence through the dinner, Gil-galad's eyes seldom leaving Eglachen. He longed to touch his old tutor, longed to run his hands through that dark hair, to let the braid down and kiss his sable locks. He turned his attention to his dinner to try not to think of what he still thought of at night sometimes when he was alone.

After dinner, there were songs, minstrels played music and there was dancing and singing. Gil-galad thought to dance with one of the young maidens and was very surprised when someone tapped his shoulder. He thought that whoever it was wanted to dance with the elf maid but it was Eglachen.

"May I borrow him, dear lady?" The she-elf graciously nodded.

Gil-galad bowed and followed Eglachen. He was very surprised when his old tutor turned to him as soon as they were in the shadows and said , "Dance with me?"

He mutely nodded and went into the circle of Eglachen's arms, a place he had longed to be for many years. Even in the shadows, they danced formally, bodies not touching, mindful of the preciseness of their steps.

But Gil-galad felt the heat of his beloved's body, smelled his scent... and looked deeply into the dark depths of Eglachen's eyes. And felt such longing that it was all he could do to keep himself from pulling him close and pressing his lips to Eglachen's.

"I have thought a lot about what you said," he said as if Gil-galad's declaration of love was only an hour ago. "You have grown much in the years I have known you. You will make a fine king. I am honored that you feel *that* way about me."

To Gil-galad, it sounded like a good-bye speech. He pulled away.

"Do not go, Ereinion," Eglachen whispered. The Noldo turned back. Dark eyes beckoned him. He went to his tutor's arms, and this time, he was engulfed in long arms and pressed against a tall, lean body. The kiss was all he had ever dreamed a kiss to be, tender, loving, erotic, and he responded by opening himself to Eglachen. He melted into the scribe's arms.

"I thought that you did not care for me."

"Why would you ever think that, Ereinion?" Eglachen seemed truly surprised.

"You looked at me so oddly when I told you how I felt. I thought that you maybe found me to be ..."

"You are to be a king... I am a - a - librarian."

"But I still love you."

"I felt-feel that I am not a proper... consort for you." Eglachen did not let go of him even as he said these things. Gil-galad leaned close for another kiss. Their next kiss was all about delayed desire and too many years of complete denial.

"Come with me to my rooms... please. I have waited for you so long." Gil-galad realized he was begging, but he no longer cared. He had no pride left when it came to Eglachen. The older elf nodded.

They stopped to kiss three times before they arrived at Gil-galad's rooms, which were small but fairly luxurious with a large, well appointed bed. The colors were deep blues and gold. He didn't say anything as he led Eglachen to his bed. The older elf began to undress him slowly as he kissed him again and again. Gil-galad trembled as he was bared. No one had seen him undressed in as long as he could remember. And no one had ever caressed and kissed his skin the way Eglachen did.

He held his breath when Eglachen unlaced his tan leggings, fearing that he would spend himself at the slightest touch.

"By the Valar, you are beautiful, Ereinion," the other elf whispered. He was wise enough not to touch the young king yet, instead unfastening boots and slipping them off, the young elf's leggings coming next. When Gil-galad stood bare before him, he stood and began to remove his own tunic and leggings, never taking his eyes from Gil-galad's.

When they were naked, Eglachen urged Gil-galad to lie down and he lay beside him, both of them facing each other. Gil-galad's eyes wandered down the scribe's slender body. He reached out a hand and let it run down Eglachen's arm from his shoulder to his wrist. He caught and brought Eglachen's hand to his mouth, kissing each finger them kissing his open palm. He moved closer then and kissed those lips he had longed for once more.

He saw a moment's hesitation in his lover's eyes then Eglachen put his hands on Gil-galad, touching his most intimate places, all of them, beginning with tiny dark nipples. The younger elf was whimpering before the hands slipped down his belly and fingers touched the dark nest of curls surrounding his eager cock. But even after Eglachen ran one finger up and down the shaft, spreading the droplets that had formed in the tiny slit, he was still not finished. He moved down so he could see and touch Gil-galad and pressed him onto his back, opening his legs wide and exposing the tender dark pouch and beneath that, the puckered entrance to his body.

"Ereinion, you are a feast to my senses. All of you pleases me." He moved back up to lay beside the young king, leaning close for another kiss and at the same time, closing his hand around him and moving it up and down.

Gil-galad thrust involuntarily into Eglachen's hand, an instinctual move. He was not thinking any longer but acting on his body's demands. None had ever touched him before and he knew he could not last long. The feeling was just too intense, too arousing. He grabbed the sheets of his bed with one hand; the other was tangled in Eglachen's raven dark hair. He lifted his hips as he pulled away from the kiss, crying out as orgasm overtook him, his seed spurting hotly over Eglachen's hand. He closed his eyes tight, not wanting the other to see his shame that he had not been able to wait any longer.

Eglachen's lips claimed his in another kiss. "I want you, my king, like I have never wanted another."

Gil-galad's eyes flew open.

"You do?"

" Yes, Ereinion. I have never felt free to tell you my feelings. You are a king and I, a mere scribe. I have no...right to make a claim on you of any sort."

"I give you the right. Will you claim me here and now?" Gil-galad challenged, afraid that Eglachen would think that helping him find his pleasure was enough and leave him.

Eglachen nodded as he rubbed the pearly fluid on his hand onto his own cock. Gil-galad rose and moved onto his hands and knees. He was shaking hard, both in need and fear. He wasn't afraid of the pain. He was afraid of being inadequate, afraid his inexperience would diminish Eglachen's pleasure.

"Relax or it will hurt," Eglachen said, his voice not much steadier than Gil-galad's knees.

Gil-galad said nothing, just took a deep breath and tried to will his body to relax. He tightened all over when Eglachen's slickened finger slipped slowly into his tiny opening.

"Easy."

He felt oddly full, an almost unpleasant feeling as the single finger slipped deeper. He found himself trying to push it out. Then Eglachen hit something inside him that made him almost scream with joy.

"Like that?"

Gil-galad nodded. He rubbed it again and again.

"Please, Eglachen... I need... oooohh... please..." He groaned when the finger slipped out as gently as it had gone in. He closed his eyes and felt his lover's weight shift on the mattress then he felt Eglachen's cock pressing into his slippery hole. It felt fuller than before...and it began to burn and sting. He bit his lip but still could not stop the way his body went taut, his passage clamping down on the invading force.

Eglachen didn't push any further in; he didn't pull back either. He gently rubbed Gil-galad's back and whispered soothing things to him until the young elf was finally able to let him move. Gil-galad felt hot tears run down his face. He feared that Eglachen would see them.

"I love you, Ereinion." The scribe moved all the way in and pulled back out nearly all the way before beginning again. He held Gil-galad's hips in his hands as he shifted his position so he could hit that tiny gland again.

Gil-galad cried out and pushed back, seeking more. He heard Eglachen gasp with pleasure and he smiled as his lover finally began to move in and out at a quicker pace. The pain wasn't gone but the feeling he got every time Eglachen thrust into him was more powerful than the pain.

"Love you," he finally groaned as his lover drove into him repeatedly, moving harder and faster with each passing second until he was slamming into Gil-galad with almost enough force to knock him from his hands and knees onto his stomach.

The younger elf was rock hard again and he wanted to touch himself but there was no way to do it. Almost as if Eglachen read his mind, he leaned over and slipped a hand underneath to take Gil-galad into his hand, moving in sync with his thrusts until Gil-galad was again spilling himself into Eglachen's hand. Seconds later, he felt throbbing inside him as his lover cried out Gil-galad's name over and over.

No words were spoken for a long time as Eglachen slipped from him and lay down, pulling the young king into his embrace. He smoothed back silky dark hair and placed little kisses on Gil-galad's head.

Gil-galad slept, knowing even then that he would not have to wake up alone any more.

Though they tried to keep their love quiet, it was not an easy task. Gil-galad really did not mind very much anyway. Gossip was a welcome diversion to the shadow that was always cast over them.

Gil-galad knew the day would soon come when he would have to leave Cirdan and embrace his destiny as a king of the Noldor. He did not know it would come so tragically and have such an impact on his life.

The news was tragic.

The news also made him High King of the Noldor.

Gondolin had fallen. The city had been sacked, Turgon killed and Idril and Tuor had escaped with their half- elven son.

After the fall of Gondolin, turmoil followed as refugees from the wars with Darkness and the sons of Feänor trickled into Sirion. Then, in their fatal quest, the sons of Feänor attacked the Havens of Sirion, destroying the home of Cirdan.

Gil-galad again could not find his lover as they fought once again to save their home, this time against elves, not the dark host. The battle was over, the city was destroyed. They began to pack up what was salvageable and count the dead.

"My lord, have you seen Eglachen?" Gil-galad tried to keep the rising panic from his voice.

Cirdan turned and looked at him, sadness etched into his features and nodded.

"He is with the wounded. I fear it is bad."

Gil-galad's heart pounded wildly as he ran, screaming his lover's name, to the tents where the wounded were housed until they could be moved somewhere more secure. He looked in one after another, finally recognizing the black hair of his lover.

Eglachen's brown eyes were glazed with pain. Gil-galad knew in that moment that he would never hold him again in this world. Just this one last time.

He knelt down by the bed and took the bloody hand in his.

"I wish I could stay with you," Eglachen whispered faintly.

Gil-galad pulled him into his arms carefully, looking in already dulling brown eyes. He later wished he had said something profound but all he said as his lover breathed his last breath was, "I love you."

Gil-galad felt... empty, hollow... as if he had breathed his own last breath. He still sat by his love as they came to prepare him for burial. He did not move until they took the body away. He could not watch as Eglachen was buried. He stood on the shore and looked out to sea instead. He never spoke the name again as long as he breathed the air of earth.

*

Gil-galad began anew in Lindon as the High King of the Noldor. The sons of Feänor were no more and Morgoth had been vanquished into the Outer Dark. Cirdan, true to his character, had moved to Mithlond, a seaport city, and made it a Haven for those who wished to sail.

The sons of Eärendil and Elwing, one-time refugees of Sirion, came to Lindon. Their names were Elrond and Elros.

*****

THE END

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