'Ecthelion! Thel! There's a ship coming, Thel! Well, it's a ship-thing, at least; it's floating on the sea, anyway... No, I'm sure it's a ship... come and look!'

Ecthelion smiled to himself as he set down his pen. He'd only settled to his work an hour earlier; an ink-and-wash drawing of the beauty of the living waters of the many springs of Valinor, and had reached that interesting point where he knew, he knew he would produce something exquisite if he just gave himself up to it...

'It's really strange, Thel! You'll be interested...'

Glorfindel's tone had become wistful now, with the hesitancy Ecthelion had learned to read as insecurity; Glorfindel had been chasing ships for several millennia, hoping each time an old friend would be there on the boat, disappointed and worried when he wasn't... and yet the very possibility of that individual's arrival was fraught with anxiety lest Ecthelion not approve this old friend who had been there to support Glorfindel when Ecthelion could not...

And, yes, it probably would be challenging, but Ecthelion was prepared to do his best to like this old friend when he arrived; if nothing else, he owed him his thanks, and not for the world would he have Glorfindel's feelings hurt...

So, as he had done more than a hundred times before, Ecthelion prepared to go and look at the approaching vessel.

'I am on my way, in fact,' Ecthelion called, wiping his hands as he stood and backed away from the stool at the table and added a reassuring laugh to his voice. 'You are an elf, after all, be patient!'

'I've been patient, and now it's time to stop all that and be excited! A ship, first in...'

'The first in a decade or so,' Ecthelion said, leaving the villa and coming to stand next to Glorfindel on the veranda looking out to the east; there was a little rise of land to the crest of the sand dunes that sheltered them from the coastal winds, and beyond that, the sea was a shimmer of azure, twinkling and glimmering under the late morning sun. He slid his arm around Glorfindel's waist and gave him a gentle squeeze.

'I see what you mean, my sunbeam, it is certainly floating... no sails, how odd! But then, the last arrivals – your friends Erestor and Arveldir, they were in some hideous yellow contraption, dreadful thing it was...'

'A lifeboat, they stole a lifeboat from a bigger ship, they said... but this is very odd! If I didn't know better, I'd say it wasn't wood, at all!'

'No more was Erestor and Arveldir's vessel... but this looks... well, it isn't sinking, it looks stable enough.'

Still far, far away, the oddly shaped craft pushed its way through the waters. It had a bouncy style of progressing over the seas, and seemed to be going faster than the tide. Too far to make out any passengers yet, but Ecthelion found himself intrigued in spite of himself.

'They're not pointed far enough south to be making for the main docks,' he said, thinking aloud. 'And there is only one channel broad and deep enough for a ship that size...'

'The quay? The one just up the beach?'

Ecthelion nodded as Glorfindel let out a whoop of joy.

'Steady on there!' Ecthelion said with a laugh. 'Even if they can sail faster than the tide, still they will need it to be running high for the draught of their ship; they are several hours away, at least!'

'But we'll be first there! By the time the lookouts notice and sort out the welcome party, this ship-thing'll be docked! Do you...' Suddenly the golden haired hero of a thousand battles grew anxious and shy. 'Do you think... this time... Triwathon... he'll be on board...?'

A heartbeat of stillness; Ecthelion knew, by now, exactly how long the pause could be before Glorfindel began to worry...

'Oh, Fin! How many times have you asked me that, how many ships have you waited for...? Love, if he isn't...'

If Triwathon wasn't on this ship, would he ever come? And how would Glorfindel bear it, if he didn't?

But how would Ecthelion bear it, if he did?

'...If he isn't,' Glorfindel went on, 'they'll know where he is, won't they? Whoever's on board... there can't be many left, can there? We know he isn't dead... Námo would have said, he promised he would send word if Triwathon showed up in his halls... but what if... if he's faded? Or... no, he wouldn't, would he? He'd have found his way to Námo, that's what they do... isn't it?'

There was only one thing to do with Glorfindel when he started getting fretful about Triwathon – take his mind off it by reminding him he was actually married... but acting like a possessive spouse was not, never had been Ecthelion's way.

Instead, he laughed softly, gently, and lightly tugged one of Glorfindel's glorious locks of golden hair.

'Oh, Fin, my lovely! I wish you would stop worrying! Your Triwathon will show up one day, probably dragging a husband behind him, and I will thank him most politely for taking care of you while I could not! From what you've told me of him, he is not the sort to fade, and yes, you are right; Lord Námo would certainly tell you if he arrived there; our esteemed Doomsman is a terrible gossip; he could no more keep such a story to himself as he could cease to loom...'

Glorfindel smiled, but the brightness faded swiftly from his face.

'It is all right, isn't it, Thel? Really?'

'Really,' Ecthelion said, turning to face his beloved soul-mate, to cup his face with his long fingers, to lift his full lips to kiss him gently, kindly, the way you had to be when Glorfindel was feeling fragile. 'Really, my darling sunbeam. I told you to find love, if you could; you needed the healing it brings. And now you are whole again, and as free from your history as any of us. I have reason to be grateful to your Triwathon, and I have never begrudged you the comfort I wasn't there to give.'

'He isn't like you, Thel. He's not a bit like you.'

'I think I'm glad to hear that. Come on. Hours to go before they dock, however will we pass the time...?'

'You were working on one of your drawings, weren't you, Thel? I don't mind if you want to go back to that, I can... oh.' Glorfindel broke off as Ecthelion gathered him into his arms, into the shadows of his midnight hair and slid kisses along his throat. 'Oh, Thel, you do have some lovely ideas on how to pass the time...'

Ecthelion's soft chuckle reverberated against Glorfindel's neck and connected directly to his groin; millennia, entire ages spent together, and still he responded instantly to Thel's touch, to his kiss, to his need...

Glorfindel lost himself in kisses and caresses, distantly noticing he was being led indoors, aware of the gasp of air against bare skin, the silk of Thel's garments under his fingers, searching for fastenings... there was a soft, yielding mattress under him, the heat and hardness of his lover lying over him and he took a breath and made himself focus, really pay attention to more than just his dizzying passions and swelling emotions...

Thel's beautiful face looked down at him, his silver-grey eyes intent and dark with love and lust. The dark waves of his hair shone and fell like obsidian satin and his skin translucent and fine, pale and clear, the full lips were held ready to kiss...

'You're like a perfect moonlit night, love,' Glorfindel said, causing the rich mouth to curve in a soft smile. 'All silver light and midnight shadow...'

'And you are the sunlight, golden and shining... we complement each other perfectly.'

'I need you, Thel.'

'And I you, my Fin, my golden one...'

'I need to you to hold me, to press against me, to fill me... to make me real...'

Ecthelion cradled Glorfindel in his arms, claimed his lips, slid his tongue into Fin's mouth and pushed his hips hard against his groin, his erection meeting Glorfindel's arousal with delicious friction. Fin clutched at him, holding tight, rising to the kiss with a moan and a whimper.

Hands roaming, exploring, Ecthelion's caresses light and promising, Glorfindel's touch more urgent, holding tight even when Thel reached for the oil flask and shifted to anoint himself, to prepare Fin's body.

'Yes, Thel, yes...' Fin moved against the exploring fingers, gasping, his eyelids fluttering over his so-blue eyes made huge and dark in arousal. 'Take me, hold me...'

Ecthelion moved, releasing him for a yearning, lost moment to sit back on his heels and reach again for his lover, pulling him close, sliding him up his thighs so that Fin gasped and locked his legs around Thel's waist, making it easy to slip into him, to move forwards again, Glorfindel wriggling and thrusting deeper onto Thel's erection, close enough to wrap his arms around him, to pull up into a kiss as Ecthelion began to move inside him, hard and heated and tantalisingly slow.

Glorfindel sighed into Thel's mouth, moaned in bliss as his lover pushed there, and there, waking waves of rapture, long, sensuous thrusts gradually coming faster, harder as Ecthelion responded to the hot, tight need encompassing him, Glorfindel's love making him vulnerable and precious in his embrace, so that he controlled the animal need and made himself make love tenderly, kissing the soft lips and sliding his fingers into the tumble of golden tresses as the love he had for this fragile hero and the beauty of him drove him towards his completion and he gasped his love as he crashed into orgasm and felt Glorfindel surge and throb around him.

'Ecthelion! Oh, Thel, love, Thel, I... oh, I love you, Ecthelion!'

'My golden flower, I love you...'

Ecthelion slipped out of Glorfindel's body, placing a gentle kiss of gratitude on his cheek, and allowed his golden one to turn onto his side, offering Ecthelion his back to be held close; it was his way, always, after Ecthelion had taken him, of showing his trust and love.

And of hiding his tears.

There were not always tears, not these days. Just now and then, when Fin was especially moved, or when the past lay hard on him and lovemaking purged him of it, then the tears came. Or from joy, sometimes.

As it was, Ecthelion snuggled close against his lover's back and waited. Soon, Glorfindel would be ready to talk, or he would allow Ecthelion to persuade him to talk; they had to, the name of Triwathon was too significant between them not to be broached, however delicate the topic. Meanwhile, Ecthelion gave Glorfindel the safe haven of his arms and reminded himself how much he had to be thankful for, casting his mind back, way back...

Ecthelion drifted in memory...