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A Warrior´s Comfort	By : Anirathiel Category: -Multi-Age > General Views: 654 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-A Warrior´s Comfort
- 1
Title: A Warrior’s Comfort

Author: Anirathiel
Email: xphilemissy@aol.com
Disclaimer: Not mine. They all belong to the Professor, who would
probably spin in his grave if he knew of this. ;)

Pairing: Gil-galad/Oropher
Rating: R
Summary: Before the Battle of the Last Alliance starts, Gil-galad and
Oropher share a private moment.
Archive: Please ask – you’ll most likely get my permission, I just want
to know where this story is posted.
Feedback: Sure, keep it coming!
Warnings: Non-con and a little bondage, but nothing too bad.

Enjoy :)

*******

“My Lord King, the hosts of Laurelindorinan and Greenwood the Great will
join our forces in what are but hours. I suggest we should not move onward, but
wait for them.”

Elrond Halfelven looked at his king, Ereinion Gil-galad expectantly. The
raven-haired herald of the Highking of the Noldor stood unmoving, waiting for
an answer. He was one of the few who had the king´s trust and did not need to
bow before him; and Elrond was the only one to voice such suggestions
straightforward without having to fear the king’s anger. His wisdom was well
known to most who dwelled in Middle-earth.

“Very well. We shall wait, but as soon as they have arrived, we will
march on.”
Gil-galad turned to look at
Elrond and his stormy-grey eyes were dark with sorrow. Or was it just the dim
light in the tent that played tricks on him? The other wondered.

“Time draws nigh, and the darkness grows stronger. If we do not defeat
it once and for all, the shadow will soon spread over all the lands.” The
determination in the king’s words was that of one who had suffered under an
even greater shadow greatly. It was well known that he had.

“Yes, my Lord King. I will send out orders.” In a blur of dark hair,
pale skin and golden-shimmering armour Elrond left the tent again, leaving
Gil-galad alone with his sorrows.

Several hours later

The hosts were marching again, joined by the Silvan Elves from Greenwood
and Lórien. Their number was not great, and their weapons were fragile, but the
allied armies of Elendil and Gil-galad needed every warrior to strengthen their
forces.

But instead of thinking of the be the that was near at hand, the
Highking´s mind lingered on King Oropher of Greenwood the Great, whose fair
face, framed with dark-golden tresses had shown nothing but detest for the
Noldo as they had clasped arms in a warrior’s fashion.

He thought about this again and again, murmuring under his breath and
feeling the desire to show the other where his territory ended and where that
of the Noldor began. It was time that the King of the Sindar learned manners
and the respect that he apparently lacked. He would be of no aid in battle if
his proud soul could not be subject to the orders of others in the host, and
then no kind fate would await the golden-haired and his warriors.

*

When the night had come, the hosts stopped again. The Elves were not yet
weary, but the Men were. And yet, this night would not be of much more rest
than four or five hours, and they would continue their march East ere the sun
had risen in the sky over Calenadhorn.

Gil-galad strode through his tent restlessly, like an animal in a cage
would do. His steps lead him from the makeshift bed to the fire, and from the
fire back to his bed countless times. He was in no mood for rest and refused to
go outside, lest his warriors saw their king in this state of mind. Somehow,
the ever-present darkness had found its way back to his thoughts – as well as
the picture of the other king.

The elf cursed quietly in Quenya and stepped out, after he had lain down
repeatedly, trying to sleep, and was on his feet again minutes later.
The night was silent. The murmur of elven and human voices had subsided
and there were only few who were yet sitting by the fires. Most had succumbed
to sleep already.

The guard next to the entrance to the Highking´s tent bowed low, when
the dark haired king came out.

“Go and find King Oropher. Tell him to come here, for there is a matter
we need to settle. Then go to sleep,” he ordered.

“Yes, my Lord King, I will do as you wish.” With those words the guard
hurried off, his steps silent on the grass as he vanished in the darkness.

*

The golden-haired elf entered the tent with an annoyed expression on his
face, and Gil-galad, upon seeing him, chuckled quietly.

“King Oropher,” he greeted respectfully.
“King Gil-galad,” the other answered, but his voice was far less
respectful and he made no afford to hide his unwillingness to talk to the other
king in the dead hours of the night.

“You wanted to speak with me? Why in this hour?”

The dark-haired elf nodded and motioned for him to sit down on one of
the two carpets that lay on the ground by the fire.

“Indeed, I wanted to speak with you. It is in this hour because there
would be too many listeners during the march, and because this matter has only
recently come to my mind. Better to speak now than later, for the time of
battle draws nigh, even as we draw nigh to Mordor.”

“I see. So, why did you summon me?” Oropher asked.

His dark-green robe, embroidered with silver beech-leaves shimmered
reddish in the firelight, and for the first time, instead of giving him an
answer, Gil-galad allowed himself to muster the other elf’s body. He sat on the
carpet cross-legged; his muscular legs clothed in breeches matching his tunic,
and regarded the Noldo suspiciously, his blue eyes flashing with barely
concealed anger as he followed the other’s gaze. He got up in one fast movement
and strode for the entrance of the tent. For him it was clear why the other had
summoned him.

“Wait,” Gil-galad ordered, also jumping to his feet in one nimble
movement.
Oropher paused for a moment and turned around. “Wait for what? For you
to take me?” the Sinda snarled and tried to continue his way, but the other
king had already reached him and the strong hand that clasped his shoulder
hindered him from going forward.

“Let go!” the golden-haired demanded furiously and as Gil-galad did not
do so, he reached out to strike his opponent. However, the Noldo was quick and
grabbed Oropher´s hand in the movement. He was pushed backward and a swift kick
swept his feet from under him. The King of the Woodland Realm tumbled to the
earth, and though he was an experienced warrior, he was easily overpowered by the
Highking, who had followed him down and pinned him to the ground.

“Perhaps you will listen to me now?” Gil-galad asked, his voice taunting
and angered.
“No! It is not important for me about what matter you will speak, for I
know you have only one thing in mind, which I refuse to let happen to me! You
are like all Noldor, greedy and driven by desire, no matter of what kind it is!
Release me!” Oropher demanded furiously. His eyes had tightened to slits in the
handsome face and his cheeks were red with anger as he struggled wildly.

“Well. I shall tell you anyway. I demand honesty of those under my
command, and obedience. And you are under my command now, for you are
but a King of the Grey Elves and though born in Middle-earth, I am one of the
Calaquendi, the last from the line of Finwë,” he bowed down and whispered
tauntingly into Oropher´s ear. “So, will you… “ He left the sentence
unfinished.

“Submit? Never!”

To his surprise and even greater anger, Gil-galad chuckled. “We will
see. I would not be too sure of this, Sinda. Rememwhatwhat is said of the
Eldar; seldom it is heard about deeds of lust among them. ‘Tis but a warrior’s
comfort I seek from you.”

“I will not submit, no matter for what cause or reason! Release me and I
shall return to my realm instantly!”

“No. I will not have it this way,” Gil-galad explained to him quietly,
an edge of danger in his voice. He stared deeply into the blue eyes of his
captive, reading a deep uncertainty in them that caused him to smile again.
Maybe, though the other denied it, he was not as unwilling as he had stated.

The dark-haired elf, who had been sitting on the Woodland King’s thighs
until now, effectively immobilising him, laid down full length on the other’s
body, letting his arms go. He ran his thumb tenderly over the other’s lips, who
lay like frozen in his struggles. Oropher glared at the other king for another
short moment, and then looked away, defeated.

Gil-galad smiled. He bent down to and traced a line of soft kisses along
the golden-haired elf’s face until he finally reached the other’s mouth. His
hands tangled in the shining hair, disallowing him to turn away.

The kiss was tender and Oropher closed his eyes, only to open them again
when Gil-galad shifted upon him and let his hands wander to unbutton his tunic.

He groaned as the hands moved further, touching his chest, his abdomen,
and finally stroked his arousal through the silken fabric of the leggings. He
ground his hips upward, yearning for more, but suddenly Gil-galad left him. “Do
not move. You will not be able to escape anyway,” he whispered into the other’s
ear, causing him to shiver. The Noldo got up and walked over to the other side
of the tent, taking a phial of oil out of his pack… and something else, that
Oropher could not seo:p>o:p>

The Gil-galad returned to him, hands hidden behind his back. Then, with
a smirk and one swift movement he pulled out a piece of rope, caught Oropher´s
hands and bound them.

“What are you doing?” the Sinda managed to say, his voice surprised and
breathless.

“It is just for the case that you should decide to leave me now. This is
something I will not let happen.”

Oropher´s face turned red, whether from embarrassment or anger,
Gil-galad could not say. “I… I will not,” the Sinda confessed.

“I know. But I like it to see you this way.”

Before the Oropher could voice more protest, his mouth was again sealed
with the lips of Gil-galad. His shivered as he felt the other king pulled his
leggings down to his knees and teased the hard flesh between his loins with
cunning fingers.

EN-US'>Had the golden-haired elf opened his eyes, he would have seen Gil-galad
standing some inches away from him, watching Oropher with an amused look on his
face. In his eyes it seemed that the Sinda was not as headstrong as he had
pretended to be. The best proof for this was the sweat-dewed flesh and his
pulsing arousal, as well as the sounds he made when Gil-galad touched him.

His eyes glittered as he bent down once more and helped Oropher to turn
around for what was to come and carefully prepared him.

Oropher wailed in protest as the other withdrew his fingers from the
welcoming heat of his body after a time, to coat his own arousal with the
sweet-smelling oil… and pushed into him. Gentle at first, his motions became
faster and harder with each stroke, and he met Oropher´s mouth in another long
kiss. Suddenly the Sinda cried out with his release, and shortly after
Gil-galad also felt his.

Oropher blinked lazily when his hands were untied a short time later. He
turned around to face Gil-galad, who had rolled off him and now lay next to the
golden-haired. He opened one eye and winked at him.

“So, who has been the one who had to obey? You or me?”

“Me,”
Oropher answered, a grin playing over his face. “But this may change… right
now. This time you will do what I demand!” he declared. “I may have submitted
once, but never will do so again. Now you will obey, arrogant Noldo, and heed
my commands. If you are doing well, I may even return to your tent in another
night,” Oropher stated just before his mouth claimed the other’s lips once
more.

END
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A Warrior´s Comfort

Title: A Warrior’s Comfort