Stormy Days
The high ceiling of the room seemed to overpower me anytime I looked at it. Dawn had not yet come and the silence of the very early morning hours were not disturbed even by a soft wind rustling through the leaves of the two trees that were to remind us of Telperion and Laurelin.
The darkness would soon change place with the first beams of sunlight as Arien travelled from the east to bring out the beauty of Gondolin. It was about time for me to leave Maeglin’s chambers. Just as determined as he was that whoever came to his bed in the evening should rest with him until he had fallen asleep, just as much he loathed for anyone to still be there when he woke. He had never asked me to stay until the break of morning.
Now it was time for me to get out of his chambers, wake the maid and have a cup of tea with her before heading to the baths. Eäriel was always on time to deliver the tray with Maeglin’s earthen goblet, containing goat’s milk, and a single slice of rye bread served on a plate as simple as the goblet was. When she came to his chamber, she would knock twice. He then opened and she would carry the tray inside and place it on his table. This followed the same routine every day. Sometimes he kept her in his room a little longer – I could guess what was happening there – but at other times she would race back to the kitchen to get a second breakfast set for whoever was still in his room. But that was rarely the case, as I’ve already said.
Maeglin’s breathing was calm and deep. His long, black hair was braided all the way and I could not stop looking at him. The Lord of the Mole – that is what they called him in Gondolin – had inherited his mother’s stunning looks, her ivory white skin, her silky, shiny hair and rosy lips and only the stern gaze of his sire. Asleep, he did not look stern, only handsome and I remembered the feeling of his lips on mine the night before.
Maeglin was not a gentle lover, no not at all. He was rough and raw in his love making, not really caring if I enjoyed it as well, but at least he was passionate. In later years I’ve been glad to have been bedded by him, to have learned what passion is about and not having had one of those constantly courtly and gentle elves as my first lover. Even though I left his chambers rather sore this morning I was looking forward to being with him again the coming night. I hoped he would choose me and not Eäriel; her loud moaning when he had her annoyed me greatly and left a bitter taste of jealousy in my mouth. She was a female; I could not compete with her. On a less regular basis, the Lord of the Fountain – Ecthelion is his name – would spend some hours in Maeglin’s chambers and sometimes Lord Glorfindel joined them.
What exactly they were doing, I never found out, as I had not been invited to be with them. Maeglin does not believe in sharing what he considers HIS property. That is what I was, his property. He had not bought me on a slave market, but as his secretary – which is what I had originally intended to be – I belonged to his household. And what, or who, was in his house, every cup, every plate, the cat, his horse, even the maid and I were from his point of view his very own belongings. Just like a plate or cup, neither Eäriel nor I ever spoke against him. Not because we feared him, even we sometimes did, but we respected his views and we both loved him. And he loved us back – in a very special, contorted, twisted and strange, even violent way.
With him and me the roles were clear. He dominated me and there was no question about it – ever. With Glorfindel or Ecthelion, I can only guess that all three of them had some versatile game going on. Aranwë, someone who went into the mountains with him, might have been warming Maeglin’s bed when he was in the mountains. But this is a rumour. I had never seen them being together.
I slipped out from under the blanket. My feet touched the cold stone floor and I felt a rush of gooseflesh over my skin, just as if I had felt Maeglin’s breath behind my ear. Surprised, I looked at the floor and wondered at how the cold affected me. I quickly grabbed my night robe and then left the room as silently as I had entered it hours earlier. I had been gazing at him and lingering in my thoughts too long!
Maeglin’s private rooms were on the highest floor of the House of the Mole. He liked to be able to look over the whole of Gondolin at any time of the day – given that he was here to begin with. Perhaps the dark months underground, spent digging deep into the mountains surrounding our beautiful city, made him long for airy places and a boundless view.
As I climbed the stairwell down to my chambers I saw the first grey shades in the skies. Knowing that our lord was an earlier riser I turned from my door and went straight to Eäriel to wake her up.
“Eäriel! Eäriel! Wake up! We are late!”
I waited at her door until I could hear her roaming around, getting herself ready. To make her life a bit easier I hurried downstairs and stirred the fire in the hearth, added some wood and poured water from one of the large amphorae into the kettle. From time to time it was only Maeglin and I alone in the big house, especially when he wanted Eäriel to go and visit her kin on the other side of the city of Gondolin. That is why I, too, knew where to find tea, flour and whatever was needed for breakfast for us or our master.
I heard her bare feet coming down the stairs. As always, she was wearing a long skirt and a blouse that closed with thin laces in the front. Her hair was in a long plait on her back. She was barefoot and rubbed her left foot against her right, when I poured the tea for us.
“You stayed long with him last night,” she murmured and stared into her large, deep cup.
“Mhm,” I mumbled, and to avoid more questions I added quietly, “He had nightmares and did not sleep peacefully until the early morning hours.”
It was not a lie. Maeglin often suffered from ill dreams and tossed his body around all night long or suddenly got up and left the house in the midst of the night to roam through Gondolin. I have desire to know where he goes on such occasions, nor what he does. There are dark places in Gondolin.
Eäriel nodded and began to mentally recall all her chores while also pointing out what I had to do. We spoke no word; we could read each other.
Suddenly she got up, poured the milk, warmed it slightly, cut a thick slice of bread, placed both on her tray and walked out of the kitchen. I could hear her bare feet waddle up the two flights of stairs.
I put my cup into the bucket for used dishes and finally made it into my room. Standing in front of the mirror I took my robe off and hung it carefully on a curved hook on the wall. I poured cold water into a washbowl and sponged my body down. After a long night at Maeglin’s will I needed to be careful around certain spots and body parts – they were more than sensitive. I was not sore or in pain as I used to be in the beginning of being laid by him, but sometimes I caught some small bruises where his teeth had dug into my skin or where he had squeezed me too hard.
Finally I felt clean and poured the water down the drain. I dressed in light blue leggings, put on a chemise and threw official robes over my shoulders. Then I took up a comb to get my hair neat. While I brushed and combed my long, silvery blond hair, I wondered what it was that had made Maeglin literally take me off the street, seduce me and put me into the position of his secretary and bed mate.
Eäriel once yelled at me, when I had only been some months in the house of the Mole, “He only likes you because you look like her!” She spat out the words. I honestly thought she would jump at me and scratch out my eyes. ’Her’, that was Idril. ’Her’, that was Eäriel’s worst enemy – and mine as well.
oOoOo
I knew that our maid loved Maeglin very much, but we also knew that he had longings for his cousin, for the king’s daughter. I personally did not consider Idril as beautiful as all songs told, nor did I admire her for being so sweet. I did not even like her, but this I did not tell anyone, because I did not really trust Eäriel not to run to Maeglin and tell him, or, even worse, tell someone at the court. We all knew that Turgon loved his daughter and any criticism would be unwelcome. I certainly knew that Maeglin would have been very nasty to me, had he known my true feelings towards Idril.
I did not look like that princess elf at all! I was a male elf! Perhaps my features were softer than those of the other ellyn and yes, my hair is similar to hers, but mine is shinier and my eyes are this magical blue, like the violets one can see in spring, blooming when the snow has barely gone away. And, above all, her bony, skinny, haggard body could for sure not compete with my long legs, my slender hips, my perfectly shaped behind, my beautiful soft and tender skin, and, I am sure, in bed she would never ever have been able to give him what I could. Because I had a cock Maeglin liked to rub and suck. The only advantage Idril had was that as a female she would have been able to bear his son. Whatever! He used me like a female anyway. She was nothing compared to me!
oOoOo
I shook my head, stroke a strand of my beautiful hair out of my face, straightened my robe and proudly strode out of my chamber. I lifted my head and then stopped in my track – my master was coming down the stairs as well.
Our eyes met. Time stood still for me. Those dark pools, indefinite in colour, neither black nor blue, caught me and made me drown in an uproar of my own emotions. One step closer to me, he grabbed my shoulder, pushed me against the door – not too gently – and pressed his lips hard onto mine. His hands instantly found their way under my robe. Fondling me, Maeglin bit my ear lobe to make me moan, and then he whispered, “I will see you tonight in my rooms, be ready for me when I retire.”
Then he stepped aside and left me standing by the door. I listened to the sound of his heavy boots all the way down until he left the house.
My heart was pounding. Even though I sometimes feared his passion – after last night I should have been happy if he let me rest – I was always aroused by his touch. I pulled my robe back in place, returned to my chambers to make sure that my hair was still the way I had brushed it and then returned to the kitchen to find Eäriel.
She was already busy collecting the wash, dusting the rooms and mopping the floors
“The list is on the table! Make sure you bring everything I wrote down,” she called to me as I entered the kitchen.
We followed the same procedure every morning. She busied herself in the house and I was to go to the market and buy what she ordered so that a dinner after Maeglin’s desire could be prepared in the evening. He was not a picky eater, but whatever he ate had to be of good quality. Different from Eäriel and me, who grew up in Gondolin, Maeglin came from the forest and his sire’s influence was mirrored in his preferences at the table.
Reading silently I stepped out of the house and down to the market. To my offense I had to cross through a few streets that I did not like too much, due to the people that lived there.
Not all people of Gondolin were nice and sweet and honourable elves. Gondolin harboured some quarters around which I normally made a big detour. Heavily armed guards and wardens patrolled these streets and narrow alleys to catch those who were up for no good. At night, I would never ever have passed through the street down which I now strolled to find the market.
I was one of the good elves. I worked in an honourable house under the only true prince of Gondolin. I came from a long and fine line of elves. I could even trace my mother’s descent all the way back to the days of awakening, and my father had been begotten in Valinor! I had been given the best education and I had done my service for the king, which comprised over a decade of battle and war training. I knew how to wield a goose quill just as well as any sword made in my master’s forge. People all around envied me for my position at the House of the Mole.
Now, walking down this narrow street, I saw some of the low lives of elvendom hiding in entrances or behind walls, being up for any kind of mischief that I did not care to experience. Hidden in my long and wide sleeved robe I always kept a knife that Maeglin once gave me for my own protection.
He had given it to me one morning, just before he made me leave his chambers. He had gotten up from the bed, though made me stay there, and from a trunk in the corner he withdrew the knife and came back. For a moment I was really not sure what he was up to, because he sometimes had kinky and weird ideas for our couplings. He grabbed my hand and before I could cry out or complain he had made a decent cut into my palm, as well as into his own, pressed the wounds together and said with this coarse voice that he has, “Mine, you are mine. Never dare to let someone else have what is mine. Take this knife to protect yourself when I am not around to watch over your beauty.” Then he threw me out.
Finally I arrived at the market. All was busy already. There were ellith praising loud their fresh produce, cages wrought from twigs for chicken, geese and other poultry. Sleeping piglets in baskets, wine in bottles, skins, small and bigger barrels. You could find all the elvish heart desired and more. Some elves were selling their working power or asking around for work, others tried to entertain the visitors and customers. A fortune teller made her way to me and grabbed my hand, begging to read it. I was going to shake her off as I usually did, but since I was in a good mood – on my way, I had seen ellyn as well as ellith making big and longing eyes over my appearance and status – I decided to let her read my palm.
As she touched the rim of my robe, she saw the embroidery. Bowing deep and curtsying she made many compliments over the House of the Mole. I motioned her to hurry since I did not have all morning to wait for her to tell me of my glorious future.
She stroked my palm, saw the now faded scar, petted it and looked deep into my eyes. “You were begotten on the day of a great sign,” she said slowly. “Great things will follow you! Your name will be known across all worlds. But first, stormy days will come and the wind will blow hard before you see the sea.” Her face darkened and she looked unhappy for a moment. Suddenly, she threw a few small bones over her right shoulder.
I thanked her for sharing her wisdom and superstition with me and gave her a copper coin or two. I wondered for a moment if she was saying the same thing to anyone who liked to listen to her. What certainly bothered me was this thing with the storm. I left her in the middle of the market and went to get chestnuts from one stand, a dressed hare from another, onion, carrots, parsnips, celery root and gold beets from the next. I made a mental note to tell Eäriel that there would be no lamb available until the next week. Then I bought some rye flour and the new cooking spoon she had ordered.
Done with the first part of my chores, I chatted a bit at the market with Erestor, an elf who often came to our house when the king demanded Maeglin’s presence. Then I went to visit my mother’s house, like I do every day. There I would take my second cup of tea before returning home.
The rest of the day I was busy with the books that Maeglin made me keep, about all the ore he dug out and found, about all the weapons he forged and sold, about what Eäriel and I were paid for our services and so on. I skipped the mid day meal, still feeling full from the fresh bred that my mother had given me.
II.
Maeglin never returned home before late after sunset. I, on the other hand, was done with all I was supposed to do way before dusk, including getting my chambers neat and admiring myself in the mirror. I never let boredom bother me. I tuned my lute and practiced my singing and playing, then did the same with the small harp I owned. Perhaps my master would wish for music in the evening – I did not want to disappoint him with false tunes and melodies from my lips that might drive a cat out of the house.
Just like every evening, I was already excited over his return, waiting and hoping he would be home soon. No one can even imagine in his worst dreams how I feel when he does not come home, not to mention that my overflowing imagination drives me up the walls. How disappointed did I not go to bed this night, and many of those following it. Maeglin did not come home.
Three days later a young elf, barely grown up but already working hard in the mines, knocked at the big door. It is in my responsibility to answer and so I opened. Sooty, dirty and looking as if he had been running for two days straight, he breathlessly handed me an envelope made from deer’s leather. A message! Courtesy bid me to offer him some refreshments before I read it, so I walked him to the kitchen. As a messenger it was of course not his place to wait for my answer in the formal sitting room. Eäriel stood at the hearth; she had pushed up the sleeves of her blouse and was stirring fruits, honey and other ingredients in a deep pot. I guessed she was making preserves for the coming winter.
“We’ve got word from the Master!” I announced and pointed at the young elf, hoping she would drop her spoon and bring him food and water. She did neither. With a sour smirk on my lips I poured him milk, cut a slice of bread and offered him some of the smoked meat that we had for dinner the night before. The young elf began to stuff himself greedily. Suddenly he stopped. With an ashamed look at his dirty hands he asked for a bowl of water and a towel to clean himself. Of course it was again I who had to bring them. Eäriel ignored me and glanced once or twice at the young elf.
Naturally, I too scanned his looks, or at least what was visible under all that dust and dirt. Long, dark brown hair, brownish eyes, a nice but not outstanding face – no competitor, I decided. No way did this elf belong to Maeglin’s favourite prey. In all the time that I had belonged to the household of the Mole, he had never even looked at ellyn that age. He definitely preferred them fully grown up, about finishing their first century – just like me. And with blonde hair – just like me. And he liked them with cherry lips – just like mine! And he…
“Read what he sends!” Eäriel interrupted my flow of thoughts. She wiped a strand of dark hair from her face and tucked it back into her braid.
I had been so distracted that I had not realized that she was about to be finished with her preserves. Untying a leather band, which held the envelope shut, I opened it and pulled out a decent piece of parchment. We both recognized the seal. I broke it and unfolded the parchment.
“Read! For pity sake, are you sleeping?” Eäriel thundered.
I shot a very venomous look at her, sighed deeply as I gazed over the beautifully, artistically curved handwriting that I knew so well and began to read aloud without ever looking at her or the messenger.
“Galdor, Eäriel! I will be awfully delayed. I have discovered a thick and rich vein of ore. Ten months, from the moment you read these lines, will pass until I shall return to you. Eäriel, prepare a feast for my homecoming; I shall see many guests that night. Galdor, I trust in you! Master Maeglin.”
“Ten months?” I cried out. “This is insane! Ten months?! He will not even be home for winter solstice.”
Eäriel put away her pot with preserves and then pulled aside the curtain that covered one of her cabinets. After some searching she found a bottle of hard liquor. She motioned me to get the big goblets and to sit down. Then she pulled the cork from the bottle and poured herself a full goblet and for me the same. She looked at the messenger, shook her head, mumbled something like “…still too green…”, raised her goblet, nodded, sobbed and poured it down her throat in one big swallow.
“He is home for summer solstice! That counts,” she exclaimed and downed the next goblet.
I was stunned! I sipped from the goblet and began to cough; my eyes, my nose, my throat, even the insides of my pointy ears started to burn as I swallowed the tiny amount of liquor. I stared at Eäriel in big disbelief.
“Where did you get this? From Angband?” I croaked while sipping again.
The strong alcohol got to her quickly and she giggled, then laughed loud and with a soft slur to her voice she answered, “At the night market – where you are too scared to go.”
She poured herself another goblet and emptied it just as fast as the first one. I hurried to the study to answer the master’s letter.
“My dearest Master Maeglin! We will do our very best, even though we know this will not be good enough for your gracefulness, because no one can ever hold the candle to you. We shall have a feast for you with all your friends to welcome you. My dearest Lord Maeglin, I assure you and swear by my life, insignificant as it may be, that you can trust me. In deep respect and love, yours truthfully, Galdor.”
I kissed the letter probably hundred times before folding it and I even sprayed it with the secret essence I once bought to use it to make the master lust even more for me. I watched the wax of the sealing candle slowly drip down on the parchment.
I hurried back to the kitchen and had to hasten my pace as I heard Eäriel sobbing. Entering the kitchen, I observed how the scared-looking messenger shifted his gaze in confusion between the elleth and me. With my lips pursed I rolled my eyes over her behaviour. I personally packed my message into the leather envelope and secured it tightly before handing it back to the messenger. Then I packed some provisions into a pouch for him, walked him to the door and bid him farewell.
I closed the door, leaned hard against it and slid slowly to the ground. Then I wept bitterly over the knowledge that he would not come home that night either.
III.
After a week of crying and tearing my hair I decided to pick myself up. First, I needed to make Eäriel sober. What if we got another visitor or, worse, what if one of the Lords came by to see if all was fine or to pick up a map? The house was in a mess, though not as bad as could be expected, as we had done nothing but weeping or drinking – the latter seemed to be Eäriel’s new-found joy.
I took her out to the well at the back of the house. I was certainly glad for the high stone walls that surrounded the garden. Maeglin himself had wrought the iron picket fence, which had been placed on top of it to keep away every intruder possible. It was impossible to enter the garden or even get a view of it. A small vegetable patch for growing herbs and some fresh produce for daily use was surrounded by yellow flowers. I guess Lord Glorfindel had once walked around it and left the seeds there.
Between the grass and the flowers, the backyard featured a very deep well. I pumped up water and filled it into buckets. Eäriel sat on the ground, her bare toes digging little holes into the ground. The first load of water hit her from the side. Even drunken like a rock she managed to scramble to her feet and babble curses at me, including one which questioned my heritage very strongly. After several bucketfuls she was not only sober but also soaking wet. She wiped her eyes and nodded when I reminded her, that we had to behave better. Maeglin would have no understanding at all for us acting so self-indulgently.
We started helping each other. We aired the house so that crisp, fresh air welcomed us in every room. We polished glasses, we waxed wooden floors. We dusted, swept and mopped or washed and dried every piece of furniture, every piece of fabric. Eäriel even dyed some of Maeglin’s faded clothing so they were deep black again the way he liked them best. We painted the kitchen and together we carried out the thick furs of bear and moose, which covered the benches and day beds deep in Maeglin’s favourite celebration room deep below the ground.
One day when we were in the backyard, Lord Erestor came by as Eäriel was holding the fur over the frame for beating carpets and furs and I was swinging the rug beater against it. He had entered through the front gate, which Eäriel had once again left open. She hurried to fetch water for the visitor. Looking at me, he cocked an eyebrow, then smiled.
“Galdor, this fits you well!” Still smiling, he came closer. My hair was not as neat as usual; it was simply tied to the back so it would not get too dusty and dirty. I wore no official robes as I normally did when he saw me. Actually, the only thing I had on was a very tight loin cloth.
“Master Galdor, most adorable elf of our days,” Erestor began, making me blush to the roots of my light hair, “aren’t you terrible bored and lonely without the Lord of the Mole?” He looked deep into my eyes. His long fingers reached out and drew a circle on the bare skin over my heart.
“Why?” I asked sheepishly.
“Wouldn’t you like to dress up nicely tonight and join me for dinner at my house,” he continued seductively as he twisted a strand of hair that had escaped from my braid around his index finger. Then he lifted it to his lips and kissed it. His eyes seemed to hypnotize me.
Lust flashed through my body. I suddenly thought that Erestor was handsome and hot. Instantly I pushed the thought away. Erestor was not hot, was he? I did know anymore.
“I will treat you well,” he purred. “I will wine you and dine you and then we will have some nice entertainment – you and I. Perhaps you can wear the silver hooded robe you wore last winter solstice…”
I tilted my head and began to think hard. Erestor’s offer was more than interesting; I had not been wining and dining with anyone ever since I had taken up my position as secretary in Maeglin’s house. Dressing up and making myself pretty was one of my favourite things to do!
“I am so sorry, I can’t!” I exclaimed. “I have not practiced the instrument….”
“I will help you with that,” he grinned.
“You play the harp and lute?”
Erestor suddenly sighed deep and closed his eyes – until this day I don’t know why – then said, “I play different instruments.”
“Oh, we could make a music evening then. I can sing as well. Shall I…?”
“Nah! Thank you, dear Galdor, thank you! Perhaps tomorrow or some other time. I think I need to go now; I have so much work to do.”
I nodded understandingly and walked Erestor to the gate. I even forgot to ask why had come by to begin with. I waved long after while he hurried down the street and disappeared behind a large house.
“Where is Lord Erestor?” Eäriel wanted to know, carrying a glass of water for him.
“He left already. He wanted to make music with me.”
“He wanted what?”
“First he said I should come to his house for wine and dinner and then, when I said that I have to practice my instruments, he offered to make music with me. He does play some other instrument…”
“You are so daft! He wanted to be with you. He was asking you out. Now that Maeglin is not around he tried to seize his chance to meet you! You are so silly, Galdor,” she exclaimed loudly, shaking her head.
Me, daft? I wondered what she meant. I was not daft! Perhaps she thought my mind was like Idril’s, just because we had some common features. Idril was daft, I was not and I was prettier.
I pouted and explained to her that not all elves were like her, always only thinking about how to find a mate or to bed someone. Erestor was for sure only asking to make music! What did she, this foolish elleth, know about the noblesse? Nothing, she knew nothing and I was not daft!
“I know you are daft. Everyone knows it! You are only good with your bookkeeping. The only reason Maeglin sleeps with you is because you are pretty and don’t ask questions.”
Now I was very upset! I was not only a good bookkeeper. I was his personal secretary, too, and I had always been the best in my classes, even in sword fighting I beat everyone. Before I had been asked by Maeglin himself to come and join his household, I had even been offered a position as a fencing master for the royal guards. I was perhaps a little naïve sometimes but not daft!
“You are daft yourself, Eäriel. Stop scorning and belittling me! You wait for him to bond with you because you are a female and he will never do so! Sooner or later he will throw you out with an illegitimate elfling on your hand,” I hollered back at her. “Remember what he said to you and me once: ’Love is a dunghill and I am the cock to climb it’. So who is daft? You with your waiting until no one else will want you, or me not realizing that Erestor only wanted to sleep with me?”
We could have kept fighting for the rest of the day. But as soon as my words had stopped echoing in the large hallway of the house, we both stood there looking at the floor, ashamed. It did not behove us to fight like elves from the lower quarters. I instantly apologized and she accepted. We went back to finish our work.
I was about to lift the carpet beater when she sullenly said, “You are not daft, Galdor.”
oOoOo
Before we were aware of it, nearly all the time had passed and Maeglin was about to arrive in the next few days. He had given us an exact time and we knew he would be punctual.
In all the months that I had been alone with Eäriel in the house, nearly every one of the great elven lords had come by to visit us, or, better said, me. And everyone had tried to somehow lure me into his bed and tried to get into my breeches. Now I understood what they sought to do and had done many hours of rehearsing in front of my mirror to answer properly, turning them down. I enjoyed the amazed looks I earned.
I was already trying on all my outfits for the special day when our master would come home to us. I cast them back onto the bed, sometimes down on the floor, to pick them up and shake the dust out of them. I am very, very neat elf.
Eäriel busied herself in the kitchen. She prepared cakes and breads, even had me go to the market and find a proper calf and bring it to the slaughter house. I carried out invitations to every important house to let them know that we were holding a feast in honour of Maeglin’s sound and safe return.
Now the fire bowls were burning, the calf was on the roast and Eäriel had hired some helpers of which one was only to turn the skewer with the meat. And then suddenly the front door was opened noisily and loudly slammed shut. HE was home.
The two of us held our breaths at first, but then we stormed down the hall to show our respect. Naturally, we stopped at an appropriate distance.
“There you are, my puppies!” Maeglin cried out and for a moment he appeared honestly happy to see us again.
He reached out his hands and while Eäriel curtsied deep and kissed his right hand, I bowed and then kissed his left.
“Master! Your bath is ready… let us guide you…”
“I can walk myself. I have been away for months working hard, not staying in bed with weakness like a mortal!” he spat, suddenly his usual self. Not even five minutes after arrival he grumbled already. It felt good, honestly!
“Eäriel! I demand food. Don’t disappoint me with dry bread and a boring soup!”
“No, master, never,” she assured him. “I have roasted a goose for you. It will please you, master.”
Maeglin slapped her hard on her behind and followed her to the kitchen.
He does have a sitting room, of course, and whenever he had a guest like Lord Ecthelion or Lord Glorfindel, or even Aranwë, he would eat there. But on days after being long gone from Gondolin, he always ate like a commoner at the simple wooden table in the kitchen, from the same bowls and plates that Eäriel and I used.
Rubbing his hands clean on a steaming towel that Eäriel handed him, he licked his lips over seeing the pleasures she had created for his palate. The goose smelled wonderfully.
“My dearest Master, I have prepared all as you wished,” she exclaimed as I admired him.
I listened as he told Eäriel about some adventure that he experienced up in the mountains. He searched in his pocket and soon produced a shiny, white stone.
“Here, Eäriel, catch! Found this one just for you!”
She jumped into the air and caught it. Amazed she looked at it and I could see in her eyes that she was truly excited over this small gift.
Maeglin took a piece of bread and started to eat. Suddenly he laughed out loud, “Galdor, I can read you like a book. Of course I brought you something too!”
My pout became a broad smile when he took a blue stone out of his other pocket.
“Did you really think I had forgotten you? You surely were both terribly missed up there… and now shoo, shoo, I want to eat in peace. Galdor, my sweet puppy, go now. Wouldn’t it be good to have a bath ready for me after this nice meal? We will wait for you with the goose, won’t we Eäriel?” She nodded silently.
I raced up the stairs to his personal bathing chamber; I wanted to be back quickly to join him at the table. The tub was gigantic, carved out of one single piece of marble. I filled it with steaming water that had been heated on the stove next to it. Two buckets at the time I poured in, alternating between one hot bucket and then one warm, then another hot and then a cold water bucket. Then I poured essences of rose oil into it, and to give him even more pleasure I sprinkled the surface with rose petals.
Back in the kitchen I sat down next him, waiting for my treats. Eäriel had plates out for us already and Maeglin was cutting up the bird. First he loaded a part of the chest onto his plate, added some of the chestnuts and apples that were stuffed into the bird and then poured the gravy over it. He cut off the thighs and laid one each on our plates. It was always the same procedure.
Once the plates were filled Maeglin spoke some words of grace to the Valar. He was very hungry. I have not often seen him eating so fast.
He thundered as we walked him upstairs tearing on his arms, and yet it was clear that he gladly let us do so.
I kicked the door to the bathing room open and Maeglin dropped down on the bench inside. I unbuttoned his jerkins while Eäriel pulled off his heavy and very dirty boots. She then took off his tunic and I unlaced his breeches. He rose and stepped out of them. For a moment I was kneeling in front of him, admiring his majestic body. Slowly, I stroked his long, muscular legs, those enormous thighs. With a swift movement he loosened his loin cloth and stepped towards the tub.
He looked at it and grinned.
I was worried for a moment, seeing his bruised body. Where else had he been other than in his mine?
“Oh, Galdor,” he said, “this is so typical for you. You’ve made an elleth bath for me. But I am no elleth; I will prove that to you again, in case you have forgotten.”
Bending over, he brushed my flower petals away and then stepped into the hot water. He sat down, closing his eyes as he moaned with pleasure and then leaned his back against the marble. Eäriel and I armed ourselves with sponges and oils, ready to wash him gently.
“What?” Maeglin opened his eyes and flashed us a look we both could not appraise. “What are you two waiting for? Get in here, and quick!”
That was something new! I had never laid my eyes on a lady elf without garments and, hearing our master’s command, Eäriel blushed into the deepest and darkest red I had ever seen.
“I am waiting!” By then he was already drumming impatiently with his fingers on the rim. “I don’t bite!”
I was to say “not true” because I often suffered big bruises where his teeth dug into my flesh during his fiery love play. Eäriel was already in only her undergarments. I had to admit that a female elf did not look too ugly – I actually considered her, once she was all nude, very arousing. I tried to hid my excitement, but without much luck.
I dropped my robe, undid the laces of my tunic, and left my shoes where they were. Carefully I shed the rest of my clothes, feeling Maeglin’s eyes travelling over my body.
“Now, into the water with you!” He splashed us and, for the first time in this awkward situation, Eäriel and I laughed. Faster than light Maeglin grabbed our hands and dragged us into the tub. The water splashed and we were both caught by surprise but also giggled like drunken elflings.
Maeglin was all over us. I suddenly thought he had ten hands and at least four pairs of lips. I felt his tongue on my lips then saw him kissing Eäriel deeply. His hands roamed over our bodies, he sucked our ear lobes, licked her nipples while rubbing my cock. He was so hungry for us. Biting, sucking, licking, arousing us - he seemed to be everywhere on our bodies at the same time. And we, Eäriel and I, did not just sit in the tub watching and enjoying, but we touched him, kissed him hungrily. Suddenly we realized that we were touching each other as well, and that she had her hands not only on Maeglin’s body but also on mine. Even though I had never before wasted a thought on an elleth, my fingers were eagerly finding spots on her body I had not even known existed.
“Kiss her! I want you to kiss her,” he whispered into my ear, then licking it up to the tip, making me shiver. “I want to watch this! Make me happy.” I suddenly felt overstrained.
“I will help you," he purred. "Kiss her as if she was me.” He drew even closer, caught my face between his hands and kissed me gently on my lips; his tongue pushed out and found its way into my mouth. Then he withdrew and Eäriel’s lips were on mine and I kissed her. A tingling sensation travelled down to my groin and when Maeglin’s hand closed around my cock I grew hard in no time. He rubbed me and I felt his head between Eäriel and me. While I was still kissing her, he began to suck on her nipples; he licked them and his free hand fondled her. It felt as if there was never an end to it and my loins were searing. Eäriel was moaning loud.
Maeglin broke the kiss and pulled me onto his lap with the back to him. I felt him hard and demanding at my entrance. He took no time to stretch me, but entered me slowly. I was still trying to get used to having him again deep inside my body and was breathing hard when Maeglin suddenly pulled Eäriel on top of me. I could not believe it! Fear and ecstasy commingled in my blood into something wonderful, something entirely new. I was not able to fight nor willing to let this experience end quickly. Maeglin bit my ear gently, sucked the lobe as he made Eäriel impale herself on my hard cock. It took my breath away.
I burned in the fire he had lit inside of me. He moved his hips so I slid up and down on his cock. I had to hold onto Eäriel, who had closed her eyes in ecstasy. And with his every push, I rocked her hard as well.
Later, we were all three exhausted, still resting in the tub. Lots of water had splashed out and the rose fragrance had mixed with the powerful scent of love making and now lay heavy over us. My head was resting on Maeglin’s chest and he had Eäriel on his other arm. As sparing of words as he usually was, that day all his adventures, experiences and news of his diggings shot like fountains from his lips.
The water was long cold when we finally got up from the bath. Maeglin left us in the bath room while he hurried to his chambers to get dressed and ready for the evening party.
“I did not intend to mate with you,” I said into this awkward silence, addressing Eäriel without looking at her.
“I know,” she replied shyly. "Me neither ‒ but I do not regret it. Do you?”
“No, I don’t.” I smiled and kissed her on her forehead. “We can do it again, anytime he wants.”
She nodded, smiling. I left her in the bath room and went to my chambers to get dressed. I wondered if she had been invited to join him with another elf before ‒ I never had until then.
oOoOo
That evening I wore leggings – midnight blue, a silver tunic with midnight blue embroideries, knee high but light boots made from soft deer’s leather in the same colour as my tunic; my hair was flowing down my back unrestricted. Only a small mithril frontlet into which a blue stone that matched the colour of my eyes was wrought, decorated my hood-covered head. The hood belonged to a floor long robe, silver of course with a blue-dyed wolf fur rim and almost uncountable shiny stones wrought into the fabric.
Eäriel clapped her hands and cried out how beautiful I was. I knew already that no one could hold a candle to me, but to hear it from her that evening made me feel particularly good and powerful.
I knew that Maeglin’s feasts were always a kind of show for the rich and mighty inhabitants of our city and I, as a represent of the House of the Mole, needed to be stunning. Maeglin had made clear earlier, when I had only been wearing official robes, that this was absolutely not appropriate. He had jerked me up into my room, torn the offending clothes off my body and punished me very hard.
Colours can tell every elf of what descent someone is, or how wealthy or of which rank a person is. Red and blue are the most expensive colours because they are so very difficult to produce. Black is also considered appropriate only for the highest ranking elves among us. Most of the commoners, the traders and the peasants had clothes dyed with natural colours. When I moved into the House of the Mole I was dressed by Maeglin. He spoiled me with pretty jerkins, breeches, leggings, boots and, of course, marvellous robes. I knew these were all very expensive and I had to be careful to stay in his favour.
I walked down all the way to the festive hall to make sure the places for the guests were right and the fires in their bowls under the chimneys burning. Then I heard the first guests arriving and raced upstairs to welcome them. I think that evening Maeglin got visited by everyone who liked to represent the different noble houses.
Maeglin enjoyed himself very much. I, who was very busy greeting and smiling and giving out little gifts as keepsakes of this evening, had no time to join the fun. I was not even able to get to the large fire bowl in the middle around which the Master and his friends danced wildly. Lord Glorfindel whispered all kinds of inappropriate suggestions into my ear but I denied all his invitations. Finally, he gave up and the next thing I saw was that he and lord Ecthelion were flirting heavily. They left the feast already before midnight. They looked good together.
To my very big disappointment, my master did not ask me to join him in his chamber when he finally locked the door, shortly before sunrise.
“I will now retire; I have no further need for you tonight.” He cleared his throat, which seemed to be raw after all the drinking, singing and laughing with his friends, and quickly disappeared upstairs.
My rest did not come until noon, when Eäriel and I, as well as the others that had been hired for the night, had finally finished cleaning and tidying up after his feast. Then I crashed on my bed and slept, stilling wearing my beautiful clothing.
The next days I barely saw Maeglin, but life was back to normal for us. He left the house early in the morning after taking his breakfast and headed to King Turgon’s throne. After he had been gone for months there were many things they had to catch up on. His mood depended on how often Idril ignored or belittled him. There were days when he was very upset and we dived right out of his way as soon as he entered the house, and other days when he came home whistling songs. He neither used me nor Eäriel for his longings.
One night three weeks after his return he came home unusually late. I was already in my bed when Eäriel knocked on my door.
“He wants you to go up to his room. I guess you should get pretty… and don’t forget the harp. He demands that you play the harp for him.”
I got seriously stressed. There were plenty of things I needed to do before I could go up to him. First I washed myself, prepared my body for the case he wanted claim it. While combing my hair I went through the repertoire of my harp playing. It had happened before that he only wanted to listen to my music and nothing more. At this time of the day I decided it was enough to wear silk leggings and a tunic under the cream coloured trailing robe. I barely had the time to cream my skin to scent like spring flowers.
I took the harp, pulled the cover off the frame, stroked it gently and concentrated on the melody to make sure it was tuned well. I put it on the floor while I gazed at my beautiful reflection in the mirror. Then I left for Maeglin’s chamber.
I knocked at the door gently. Loud knocking would always be answered with a decent slap to the face. Maeglin hated noise. I guess that came from the many hours he spent in the forge hammering. He did not answer, so I entered.
To my surprise, he was standing at the window, staring out into the darkness. My eyes are not bad but he is known for his tremendous sight; some said he was able to look even into the mind of an elf. Perhaps that was why he was so terribly unhappy over his situation with Idril. Who knows what she really thought about him?
With his back still to me he ordered me to sit down on the short stool and to make music for him.
“Quiet melodies, no merry music – no singing!” He complained already before I was able to stroke the harp for the first time.
I followed his wish and began to play. Maeglin continued to look out into the dark night over Gondolin. He watched the clouds that began to cluster on the night sky. Even through my play I could hear the leaves moving softly in the breeze.
A while into my playing, he closed the window and walked to his desk. He pulled out parchments, ink and a quill. He looked at his writing tools, then added some coal for drawing. His mind seemed to wander though his gaze appeared very concentrated. Then he took the coal and began to draw. I was not able to see what it was, but my experience told me he was creating a new sword, drawing it. He probably even decorated it already with all the engravings and lines that he would later put onto the real thing. Then he dipped the quill into the ink, levelled it and began to write. I saw that his lips moved when he wrote down the magic spells that he would cast onto his creation during the process of forging.
Whenever I played for him, I lost my feeling for time and everything around me; this time was no different. That is why I missed that he had long since finished his project and had been watching me making music for him. He got up and began to extinguish the candles one after the other.
Suddenly he was in front of me.
“It is time.” His hand rested on my fingers and I was no longer able to pull the strings. He turned away and walked over to his bed. It was then that I realized that he was barefoot. Maeglin was rarely seen without some kind of foot wear. He pulled the blanket back, shook one of the straw filled pillows and opened his robe. He was nude underneath.
My eyes were glued to his appearance. He could have been chiselled out of marble. I loved to look at his ivory skin. He slipped under the blanket and stretched out on the big fur that he used to sleep on. Then he motioned for me to come to the bed to join him, and blew out the candle next to the bed. I slowly walked over and in front of him I let my robe sink to the ground. Maeglin’s eyes followed each of my moves as I gracefully rid myself of my tunic and my leggings. He lifted the blanket and pulled me in by my right hand.
Most of the time that he had me in his bed he would kiss me hard and passionately. Then he would turn me around and I would lie with my face down into the fur or stand on my hands and knees as took me from behind. Once inside, he pounded recklessly until he shot his full load deep into my body. He always pulled out fast and then turned away from me and slept.
That night he rolled me into his arms. Stroking the sides of my face he first kissed my lips gently, but longingly. His mouth was full but small, the lips soft and warm. His tongue longed to meet mine and I answered his kiss. I even dared to wrap my arms around his neck. This must have triggered something in his mind. Instantly his kiss became more passionate and his hands moved from my face to my sides, to my chest and my neck. I thought this kiss would last forever.
He left my mouth and bit playfully into the nape of my neck. This, of course, aroused me. I saw him smiling and I shivered when he licked over my earlobe and all the way to the tip of my ear. That made him grin and he bit me again, which caused me to moan and to giggle at the same time. My hands were in his hair and then on his broad shoulders, stroking him, caressing him.
He moved further down and I arched my back when I felt his lips closing around my cock. Digging my fingers into the fur on which I laid I began to gently move my hips. His tongue snaked out and licked, his lips sucked gently, then harder, his hand rubbed the shaft of my hard cock. I desperately tried to contain myself; I did not want to spoil this with climaxing to early. I felt his tongue on my testicles. His tongue slid even further down to make me soft and moist. Then his lips were back on my cock and I was panting hard.
For a moment he stopped and licked his fingers. He needed moisture to stretch me. I moaned louder when he inserted the first of his fingers gently and slowly to let me adjust to this new sensation. And this sensation was big when he not only began to push his fingers in to search for the hidden spot inside of me, but also sucked even more.
“Maeglin, master… please... I can’t… much longer!” I cried out and bit my lips.
He stopped and I could literally feel the warmth of his smile on my face before he covered me with his body. I was ready for him and he knew it well. He shifted my legs and began to penetrate me. I pushed my hips down and now it was he who sighed as he felt how tight and warm I was inside. He began to move. In and out …and …in …and out… he took his time. Slow gentle pushes were followed by hard thrusts. Holding on to one of my legs that he thrown over his shoulder he found enough stability for himself to become faster and more demanding. His right hand closed around my cock and he rubbed it in the same rhythm as he pounded into me. I could not hold back my excitement and my moans echoed from the walls back to us. Maeglin was not a hint quieter than I and felt how his testicles became harder, and so did mine. With a feral scream, like a predator crowing over his prey, he shot his hot seed into my body. This was the final move I had needed and I could only moan deep and close my eyes for the moment of the strongest climax that I had ever experienced.
Maeglin propped himself up on his elbows and kissed me on the tip of my nose. Then he rested his forehead on mine. We were both sweaty and our bodies moist. He was panting heavily like his own war horse when he had spurned it too hard. I closed my legs around him and he stayed where he was. Kissing me again, stroking my hair, he stayed inside of me for a long time. Then, when we both shivered a little over the cold air on our bodies and he was fully limp again, he slipped out of my body. He laid flat on his back and stared at the ceiling. I waited next to him until he was panting normally again. I moved quietly to the side and then slipped out of the bed. Throwing the robe over my shoulder I collected my leggings and tunic. It was time to return to my chamber.
But I stopped at the window. The sky was now loaded with heavy clouds. Far in the distance I saw lightening but could not hear the thunder yet. I wondered why we would experience a thunderstorm so early in the year. Weren’t they supposed not to appear until long after solstice? It worried me somewhat.
Spooked I jumped. Maeglin’s hand was on my shoulder, his lips behind my ear and his arm around my side. He had not been asleep as I had thought. No, he was far from sleeping. Instead he had gotten up again and had silently joined me. He held me tight, with my back to him. I felt his breath in my hair and knew he was looking at the clouds just like I did.
“Come, Galdor, come to bed with me. Stormy days are coming… stay with me tonight.” I felt him tremble. With my hand on his chest and my head on his shoulder I fell asleep that night and stayed there until the late morning.