I do not think he realizes I know, but it would be difficult not to
notice the way he leaves our bed every morning. In the moments before
the dawn, I keenly feel the absence of his warmth beside me. With my
body still humming pleasantly from our nightly lovemaking, I am loath
for our closeness to end too quickly, even for so brief a time.
That is not to say I do not understand why he does it. I do. Better
than he knows.
He watches me as the sun rises, but he does not know that I watch
him, as well. If he could see the glorious sight I behold as he stands
there, he would know why I cannot miss it, not even once.
At first, he is just a silhouette against the deep blue of the
brightening sky as he slips into his robe. Silently, he moves to the
balcony doors and pushes the curtains open and still he appears to be a
living shadow. There is nothing to distinguish him, no way to see the
stunning beauty that makes even the most careworn of hearts beat faster.
He is just a shape in the darkness. Even his natural Elven glow is
somehow muted, or perhaps it is just that I am usually a bit groggy. He
is the morning Elf, after all, not I.
Slowly, his shape becomes more pronounced as the sky behind him
gradually lightens from indigo to rose. The curtains flutter softly in
the morning breeze as the world stirs and inhales deeply. The air wafts
through the open doorway, bringing with it the soft smells of an
awakening earth and the merry sounds of birdsong raised in joyful
anticipation of what is to come as the entire world heralds the
impending dawn. I cannot see it, but I know that my husband's golden
hair is lifted gently by the morning's breath because its fragrance is
carried toward me.
The scent of Glorfindel on the morning air is my favorite.
When dawn finally breaks and the light streams in through the window
behind him, I can understand why some have compared him to a god.
Indeed, it seems almost as if the sun rises merely to worship him.
There he stands, illuminated in glorious light. His golden hair a
glowing halo about his head and shoulders; the silk of his robe clings
to him so that when the light strikes his form, the contours of his
honed body are accentuated.
The vision of him takes my breath away.
That this Lord of Gondolin, noble hero and Elf of legend rises each
day before dawn merely to witness the sun shining upon a simple scribe
of no particular renown, is amazing to me. That he loves me at all still
astounds me, but he has given me irrefutable proof of his love and it
continues to vibrate through my sated body. My heart swells anew at the
depth of this glorious Ellon's feelings for me. I can feel my heart
threatening to burst from the joy of knowing I am his, and he is mine.
So bright is the light behind him that if I did not know otherwise,
it would be difficult to tell if he stood gazing out the window or in
toward our chamber. But I do know. I can feel his eyes upon me and sense
the smile curving his detectable mouth as he watches me.
I remain still. I have no wish to spoil the scene he deliberately
rises to witness. I do nothing, say nothing, to reveal that I know what
he does each day. He might know that I watch him in turn, but I cannot
be certain. Our belief that the other is unaware of what we do is part
of the beauty of our daily rite of greeting. It is a personal moment
with which we each indulge ourselves and dive into the soul-deep love we
feel for one another.
Strange . . . even our moments of private reflection upon our bond
are shared with each other.
After a few moments, Anor's light fills the room more softly than in
that initial moment of blazing glory, and my beloved turns to draw the
curtain over the open doorway. He is always considerate of my comfort
and does his best not to disturb my rest with his morning ritual. He
moves from my line of sight and I hear the soft whisper of his silken
robe dropping to the floor. I feel the bed dip slightly as he returns to
our comfortable nest. His warmth is restored to me as he molds his body
to mine once more.
His arm slips comfortably around my waist and I cannot help but smile
and sigh in contentment before allowing myself to drift into revere for
another hour or so. For centuries Glorfindel has begun each day by
witnessing the first light of dawn shining upon me, and I simply cannot
face any morning without seeing him do so.
Surely there is no greater gift than that kind of love.
~fin~
