Title: Blessed
Author: Larien Elengasse
Type: FPS
Characters: Glorfindel / Manwë
Rating: NC-17 for slashy goodness
Beta: None, all mistakes are mine.
Archive: Rhovanion, OEAM, Melethryn. All others
please ask.
WARNING: Graphic depictions of sexual acts between a
male elf and a Vala.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they are
the property of JRR Tolkien and his estate, and I am
sure he would be horrified if he read this.
Author's Notes: A little vision I had of Manwë and
Glorfindel. Canon disclaimer is in place, as always.
Feedback: If you care to share, larienelengasse@yahoo.com
Summary: Glorfindel comes home.



How long had it been since he had stood on these
peaks, gazing eastward, listening to the sound of
ocean waves below? Ages, it had been, long,
agonizing, war-filled ages. His penance had been
bought with blood, both his and that of foul beasts.
Now, at last, he was free.

Glorfindel had always been special to Manwë from his
earliest days. Even when he defied the Valar and left
Aman with his kindred, his blessed lord had watched
over him. The Eagles watched over him and his home,
but they had always been with him, even when he
crossed the Grinding Ice.

He had climbed as high as he could; he could go no
further without invitation. His back to the sea and
his gaze turned skyward, he murmured, "Will you accept
me?"

Softly it began. A quiet, cool breeze that toyed with
the hem of his surcoat caused it to flutter gently.
The soft wind wound around his legs, causing him to
close his eyes as it caressed his body and sent his
golden hair aloft. His feet left the ground and he
was lifted gently, high into the air, where birds
sailed upon the drafts and the world was but a shadow
beneath him.

He was lowered to the ground and gently placed upon
the tall, silky grass. A deep voice floated upon the
wind. "I have missed you," it said.

A tear traced down his cheek and he answered, "I have
missed you, lord of my heart. Will you forgive me?"

"I forgave you long ago," the voice murmured. "Let me
see you."

He unbuckled his belt and pulled his surcoat over his
head. His tunic followed, then his undershirt, boots,
leggings, and undergarment. He stood naked in the
grass, smiling as he watched white, billowing clouds
float overhead, dancing across the pale blue sky. He
was home, where he had always belonged, with the one
he had always loved.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I have always loved you."

He gasped as the wind caressed his bare flesh, causing
an aching, ragged sigh to escape his lips. It wound
around his body, caressing him, holding him, touching
him in ways that no mere First Born could. The
beautiful, tormenting breeze caused him to moan in
desperation. Nothing was more torturous than loving
someone you could not hold, you could not touch.
Manwë had never shown himself to him, not in these
private moments. The only physical form Glorfindel
had ever seen was the tall, imposing Vala, with white
hair and piercing blue eyes. In these gentler, loving
moments, his lord was only a breath of air.

Each soft caress brought him closer to surrender, to
the inevitable fall into ecstasy that would leave him
warm and weak, but more content than he could ever be
without his lord's touch. It started with a
tightening in his core, then his blood turned to fire,
racing through his limbs until the only way he could
communicate his bliss was to cry out wordlessly into
air. He sank to his knees in the soft grass, his
stomach and thighs damp with his own essence, his body
tingling, and his heart racing. He slowly lay down on
his side, a smile curving his lips.

"My golden warrior," Manwë whispered. "You are
blessed among the Noldor."

Glorfindel smiled. He was the only one of his kind
that his lord loved so well. "Aye, I am," he
whispered. "I am blessed among all First Born to have
your love."

"'Tis not over, there is yet one battle to be fought
at The End. There you will face your old enemies, the
Witch King and the Balrog, and when it is done, the
world will be remade. I would have you fight by my
side, with my warriors."

"I am your servant, my lord," Glorfindel answered.
"There is nothing I cannot face when I know you are
with me." He rolled to his back, his eyes cast
skyward. "I would ask of you one thing," he
whispered.

"Ask."

"Let me see you, as you would have me see you."

"Close your eyes."

Glorfindel closed his eyes and waited. A soft touch
of fingers upon his cheek caused him to open them once
again, and he gasped. His lord hovered above him, the
Vala's pale hair brushing his cheek, his blue robes
fluttering upon the wind. Liquid blue eyes gazed into
his own, and a gentle smile curved Manwë's soft lips.

"I love you," Glorfindel whispered.

"I love you, Glorfindel," the Vala replied. "Take
your rest in my garden, and then dress and come to me
in my halls."

Glorfindel closed his eyes, Anor's rays warming his
skin, and he fell asleep, listening to his lord's
voice whisper in the grass.

~Finis