The Trysting Place

A small house, really little more than a shack, sat in a clearing on the edge of the forest. It was made of wood, aged to a soft grey from too many rain-filled winters and hotter than Mordor summers. To look at it one would have wondered if anyone did, or even could, live there.

No one did, at least not on a permanent basis. But if one looked inside a different story would be told.  A soft glow came from the two beings within and from a candle sitting on a small table. Elves. One did not expect to see them in this area, so it was a perfect trysting place.

The younger elve, Etele had arrived early on the first morning and sliding from hi8s horse he left him graze.  Taking his saddle bags he went to the door and carefully opened it. Inside he found a red fox two squirrels and several doves in the rafter. He loves all the forest animals, but he didn’t want to share the small cabin with them for the next three days, so he gently turned them out. Next he opened the two small windows to air the place out. He dusted, shook out the linens and remade the bed, then opening the saddle bags he began taking things out of them. He built a fire in the fireplace, caught a small rabbit and had just finished skinning and cleaning it and putting it into a pot to stew when his elven ears picked up the whinny of another horse entering the clearing. It was Asfaloth. He recognized the whinny. He ran to the door and threw his arms around his lover as he stepped onto the small front porch.

“Mae govannin meleth-nin,” he greeted him. Come in. I was just getting the stew going. Laure spoke to the two horses asking them to stay close. He knew they would anyway, being elven horses. He also knew they would warn them if anyone or anything came unexpectedly into the clearing. Then he entered the little shack with his lover.

“I see you have been here for a while and been busy. You have things all fixed up,” the older elve, Laure said.

“Yes. I got off early,” Etele replied.

The two entered the shack and Laure laid his saddle bags on the table.

“If you’ll cut up the apples and slice the cheese I’ll just get this stew going,” Etele said. “Did you bring the wine?”

“Yes. But first things first.” He took Etele into his arms and kissed him deeply and thoroughly eliciting a moan from his lover.

“If you don’t stop kissing me we’ll never get the foot done,” he admonished Laure.

“Who cares about food,” Laure replied. I just want to spend the next three days making love to you.”

“I know you Laure. And you will want to stop in the middle of everything and eat. Now behave for a little bit longer.”

Laure gave him one more quick little kiss then walked over to the table. He took three bottles of wine from his saddle bags, then tossed them into a corner. Next he began cutting up the apples and cheeses while Etele finished preparing the rabbit stew and sat it over the fire to cook.

At last the table was sat with a small feast fit for a king, or at least a prince, for so the two elves were, princes of great houses. On the table were the red apples cut into quarters. Etele was very partial to apples. There were also grapes which Laure loved. Well, he loved feeding them to his lover. The cheeses were cut and arranged on a large platter along with the ever present elven bread, lembas. And the stew was in a bowl in the center. The bottles of wine sat unopened, waiting, and if one looked closely they would see the label proclaimed they came from Laure’s own vineyards. One knew the wine was the best obtainable. A tall beeswax candle completed the setting. Not a feast by human standards, but certainly one for the two elves who were there.

The soft sighs and moans coming from inside bespoke of a different kind of feast being indulged in. Many hours later the two lay in one another’s arms talking softly.

“This place is a wonderful little escape,” Laure said.

“I can’t believe three days have passed so quickly,” Etele pouted. “Does anyone else know about it?”

“Only Lord Turgon. If he needs us he knows where to find us,” Laure replied. “Come on. Let’s eat. Then we had better get back.”

The two got up and dressed.
Are you on duty tomorrow?”

“Yes, at the docks. And you?” Etele asked.

“Yes, at the palace gates until next week.”

Etele sighed and picked up the last piece of apple. Laure poured more wine and popped a grape into his mouth. Seeing Etele’s look of dejection and resignation, he leaned over and kissed him.

Looking wistful Etele started to ask, “Do you think….”

“No!” Laure replied emphatically. “Lord Turgon will have us scrubbing the stables for the next thousand years if we are late getting back.

Laure drained the last of the wine from his cup and the two quickly cleaned up the remains of the meal. They put away everything, made sure the fire was out and snuffed the stub of candle.  Then they went outside and mounted their horses. At the edge of the clearing they stopped and asked Yavanna’s blessing and protection on the shack, and then they hurriedly rode toward Vinyamar.

They parted at the gates to the city.

“I’ll see you next week, meleth-nin,” Laure said and lightly kissed his lover one last time. Then he turned and rode away.

Notes:
Mae govannin – welcome
Meleth-nin - beloved