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The Lost and the Hidden City	By : pip & BronxWench Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2743 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: We do not own Middle Earth, any of Tolkien's world or characters. We make no money from this work of fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 13
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Chapter Fourteen
Though Glorfindel stole a few touches, they went through a familiar ritual, washing each other’s hair. Gildor took his time, making Glorfindel lean back completely in the water, so the heat of it would seep into his sore shoulders.
Long ago, one of his former lovers had been a healer, like Lord Elrond himself. He’d been a frequent visitor to Imladris while he studied, and Gildor had picked up some knowledge from him. Not so much academic knowledge, but those parts of the healers’ arts that could be used to give pleasure, such as massage.
Upon their return to Glorfindel’s room, Gildor had his lover lie down on the bed, and treated him to a slow, lingering massage to relieve the muscles further. He was not surprised to feel Glorfindel relax beneath his hands, occasional low groans of pleasure coming from him. The oil he had used was light, and as it became heated, sinking into Glorfindel’s skin, Gildor finally truly understood what a personal thing this was. He hadn’t really known before now. In the movements and press of his hands, all of his love was expressed in silence.
Glorfindel was completely still beneath his hands, breaths coming slow and regular. If he did not hear the soft groans, he might have thought his lover had slipped back into reverie. He smiled, feeling very tender and peaceful as he continued to work on Glorfindel’s muscular shoulders. His own wrists seemed to take some good from the movement as well, and it increased his feeling of well-being, right up until Glorfindel’s stomach let out a small rumble.
He could not help but giggle. Glorfindel’s appetites, all of them, were as large and expansive as the elf himself. He worked a small knot loose, and sat back. “I should go and fetch us breakfast. You’re so relaxed right now, and it seems a shame for us to have to get up, and dress, and go to the dining hall. We can have a sort of picnic, right here.”
He wiped his hands on a cloth, admiring the strong back and powerful frame of his lover. “Oh, you are so beautiful, melethron. You make me wonder what I’ve done, for the Valar to put us together again. Whatever it was, I would be pleased to do it again, and again.” His voice was light, and full of joy.
“You only had to be yourself,” Glorfindel replied, a deep purr which sent lovely shivers through him. “I do not know where you learned to massage like that, but I am very glad you did learn. Thank you, bain nín.” He turned his head. “You do not need to fetch food for me. It will do me good to get up, I think.”
Gildor allowed that and turned away to find some clothes to wear, being as he was himself only clad in the robe he took to the bath. “Well, that is probably for the best,” he commented, aware that Glorfindel was standing close behind him. “I don’t know where I would find a wheelbarrow at this time in the morning.”
For a moment, there was silence, and then as if it had clicked, Glorfindel suddenly tackled him from behind, picking him up and tossing him onto the bed easily. Before he could get up again, the warrior was on top of him, pressing him down.
“Wheelbarrow?” he queried, a dangerous and playful glint in his eyes. Gildor would not be deterred, and merely reached up to cup Glorfindel’s face in one hand.
“But, meleth,” he said. “You know how much you like the fruit salad they have at breakfast, and the cooked meats. Plus there’s the bread, and tea, and oatmeal that you like.” He smirked as he watched Glorfindel, torn between satisfying his hunger, or the growing erection that was pressed so tightly against Gildor’s thigh. “Oh, and those pastries with the jam…” he said deliberately.
Suddenly, Glorfindel relaxed in defeat, all of his weight on Gildor’s slighter frame. Gildor laughed, running his fingers through his lover’s hair. “Let us get dressed,” he said softly. “We can always come back here afterwards and -” He stalled when he felt Glorfindel licking at his neck, his tongue wet and hot.
“You taste nice too,” Glorfindel said deeply, his voice vibrating right against Gildor’s ear. It made him shiver, and he felt his body become inviting as Glorfindel’s hands roved over his skin beneath his robe, arranging him.
It wasn’t really like being seduced, because his body was so eager he was hard already. Glorfindel knew him well, knew all the things to do so that all he could think about was feeling the perfection of Glorfindel inside him. He helped with the sleeves of his robe, getting free of them as he half sat up, reclining back down with his knees raised, his legs wrapped loosely around Glorfindel encouragingly.
When he was ready to plead, thanks to the heady kisses and precise touches his lover used on him, Glorfindel suddenly let him go, standing up and turning away. “Get dressed, little tease,” he said jovially. Gildor only groaned and threw a pillow at him.
“Just see if you get any dessert later, wicked elf,” he said, but he scrambled off the bed and began to dress hastily. It took a bit of doing to make his breeches fasten, but his tunic covered any indiscretions nicely, and he took Glorfindel’s hand as they went to find sustenance.
After they had eaten, Gildor looked at his lover. “We went on a walk through the valley to one of my favourite places yesterday. So, it seems only fair if you should decide what you would like to do today.” He held up a hand before Glorfindel could speak. “And because you like rules so much, I will give you a rule. Whatever it is you choose, it must be out of doors. Fresh air and sunlight are good for us both, along with healthful exercise.”
Glorfindel steepled his fingers, and pressed them to his lips. He had a sudden strong urge to lean in, move those fingers, and kiss his lover’s lush mouth, and the wave of desire which accompanied the impulse made him almost dizzy.
“Is there a good place to swim?” Glorfindel said, after a few long moments. “I would love to swim, I think. It is healthful, and most enjoyable, and the weather looks ideal, don’t you think?”
Gildor did not answer right away, lost as he was in the mental image of Glorfindel, marvelously naked and swimming in a tranquil lake. He startled when his lover took his hand, stroking it.
“Are you all right?” Glorfindel asked. “You were leagues away, I think.”
He could feel the heat in his cheeks. “I am sorry! I was lost in thought for a moment, but yes, swimming sounds like a lovely notion. Shall we go gather some towels, and maybe beg a picnic lunch from the kitchen?”
Gildor knew many pools which were large enough to swim in, all of them exposed, open to all. There would be others in those places, even on an ordinary day. While the sun shone, they would not find themselves alone. But there were other places…
So it was that they gathered their things, and Gildor was able to ignore the way Glorfindel tried to seduce him this time. He had something specific in mind. It was a secret place which few in Imladris knew about. He himself only knew of it because Elrond had showed it to him once.
Giddy, he almost pulled Glorfindel along, right into the cliffs where the largest of the waterfalls were. Glorfindel shouted at him to ask where they were headed, hardly able to make himself heard over the cacophony of water as it fell onto rocks and into small pools. Hoping against hope that his memory had been true, Gildor eventually led them to a shimmering curtain of falling water, whereupon he tightened his hand around Glorfindel’s and gave him a glance.
“Through there?” Glorfindel mouthed, and Gildor nodded. “Are you serious?”
Gildor took a short breath and then walked straight through, pulling Glorfindel along behind him. The curtain of water was merely that, and on the other side was a pool, shielded from the worst of the noise, deep and cool, sunlight shone through the curtains of water that would keep them hidden from prying eyes. It was even more beautiful than he remembered. Exotic wild flowers flourished here, in the continually humid warm air between the falls. Leafy plants grew in fissures on the rock that surrounded the pool, making it into a secret paradise.
Beside him, Glorfindel caught his breath, and Gildor squeezed his hand.
“What do you think, meleth nín? Will this do for a swim and a picnic lunch?” He nearly dropped his basket when Glorfindel pulled him into a tight hug.
“You are the most amazing, clever, surprising elf. This is magical, truly. It looks like someplace the Valar would come to bathe and swim.” Glorfindel looked around in awe.
He laughed in delight. “Then my little surprise is a success. I have walked almost every inch of Imladris by now, but even I would have missed this place had I not been shown the way. And now I have shown you. You are the first and only elf I have brought here.”
He found a spot to set down his basket, and then peeled off his tunic, damp from the quick trip through the waterfall. He hung it over a stout branch to dry, and looked over his shoulder at Glorfindel. “I thought you wanted to swim?”
All at once, he was in Glorfindel’s arms, and the tenderest of kisses was pressed to his lips. “I will never stop being enchanted by you, will I? You will always have something fantastic in wait for me, something to take my breath away, and remind me I am the luckiest elf alive. Mîr nín, thank you.”
Gildor wrapped his arms around Glorfindel’s waist, his heart light as a feather. He had thought himself the lucky one, to have his lover want him so passionately, but he too had much to give. It was an unexpected thing, to be able to keep surprising Glorfindel, but he decided he liked it, a great deal. He also liked teasing his lover, so he looked up with a sweet smile. “You are very welcome, but if you truly want to thank me, you will get out of those clothes. I think I will find the view much improved.”
Glorfindel chuckled and let him go, stripping off his clothes quickly. He was unselfconscious, completely at ease with his own nudity. Yet though he must be aware of his own beauty, he did not play to that either.
“Is it deep enough to dive?” Glorfindel asked suddenly, breaking Gildor’s study of his body, making him look up from Glorfindel’s abdominal muscles.
“Oh,” he said, distracted, then nodded. “Yes. The pool conceals a deep cavern below. The last time I was here, I tried to find the bottom of it but I could not hold my breath for long enough.”
That seemed to be answer enough for Glorfindel, and he backed away slightly, taking a three or four step run up before diving into the water. Despite his bulk, he made a streamlined entry that barely disturbed the water. Only a little splash marked his passing as Gildor walked to the edge to look, dipping his toes in. The water was so very clear he could see his lover in the depths, shooting back up to the surface.
He did not have time to fill his eyes with the sight of his lover before he was laughing and cringing away from the droplets of water Glorfindel shook from his hair. So he missed Glorfindel swimming up to him, and the next thing he knew fingers were pulling at the waistband of his breeches.
“What are you waiting for?” Glorfindel teased. “Perhaps you are waiting for a water sprite to come and take advantage of you on the rocks. Is that it, bain nín?”
Gildor lifted his hips as Glorfindel pulled the last garment that covered him away, the warrior’s lips on his collarbone. “You are very tempting,” Glorfindel purred. “Fortunately, the water is cold enough. You are quite safe for now, pîn edhel.”
“I am?” Gildor queried, quite disappointed, and Glorfindel laughed.
“Yes. But you are insatiable,” he teased. “Race me to the other side,” he challenged, moving back so that Gildor could slip into the water.
“But I will not win!” Gildor said.
“Then you will have to pay a forfeit later,” Glorfindel said, smiling. Immediately he wondered what kind of forfeit Glorfindel had in mind, only to miss the start of the race. With a little laugh he launched himself from the side, trying to catch Glorfindel up.
Of course Gildor did not catch Glorfindel, but he found he did not care. He decided whatever forfeit Glorfindel had in mind would be delicious. Instead, he focused on enjoying the water, and the company.
They swam until they were both well tired, and they climbed out to relax on the bank, the sunlight warm where it shone through the waterfall. Gildor lay on his stomach, his chin resting on his forearms. “Did I win any of the races?” he asked, his eyes half closed. He was not ready to nap, but the sun was certainly lulling him into a wonderfully tranquil state, and if he looked too much at Glorfindel, his tranquillity would vanish in favour of ardour.
“Do you need to ask?” Glorfindel replied, laughter in his words. Gildor sighed as a strong finger traced its way down his spine. “You are an excellent swimmer, and very agile, but I’m afraid speed is not your strength.”
He ignored the urge to purr as Glorfindel’s finger travelled lower. “Whereas strength is your hallmark?” he teased. “I thought you said I was safe.”
Now Glorfindel did laugh aloud. “We are not in the water any longer, bain nín. I am thawing out nicely.” His finger slid even lower, and then Gildor felt the warmth of a strong hand cupping one buttock. “Such a perfect fit,” the warrior observed.
He knew Glorfindel was teasing him, but he really was so pleasantly tired. He stretched his body out deliberately, parting his legs slightly where he lay. “Make love to me,” he said on a sigh, not even opening his eyes.
He turned his head when Glorfindel guided him, and responded eagerly to the kiss until Glorfindel let him be again. “Take me,” he repeated the invitation, and perhaps he hadn’t meant to tease, but he heard Glorfindel’s slight groan of want, and it made him happy.
“I will,” he said. “Here, and now, but will you be able to stay quiet, Dúlinnor nín?”
Gildor frowned. “I do not know,” he began, but then Glorfindel continued.
“Others would hear your cries. And that would bring them to this special, secret place, would it not? Ah… perhaps…”
On tenterhooks now, Gildor opened his eyes lazily. “Perhaps, what?” he asked, and tried hard to avoid seeing the grin Glorfindel flashed at him as predatory, but it was difficult. He had that look again; like he was going to enjoy what happened next.
“Perhaps I should gag you,” Glorfindel suggested at last. Gildor felt his heart beating fast as he stared into Glorfindel’s eyes. To be deprived of voice, while Glorfindel took what he wanted, to feel that perfection of being claimed and unable to let it out. He almost moaned out loud at the thought!
“Maybe you should,” he said quietly, aware that Glorfindel was waiting for his consent.
Glorfindel held his gaze for a long moment, as if to make sure he was serious about his agreement. There was no way to avoid seeing the warrior’s regard as anything other than predatory now, and he felt a delicious icy shiver make its way along his spine. Without his voice, he would not be able to let Glorfindel know if it became overwhelming. But the rewards were much greater than the risks.
“And what of you?” he asked instead, reminding himself Glorfindel had earned his trust many times over already. “Will you be able to stifle your growls and groans?” He offered up a cheeky grin.
“I will just have to muffle myself in the hollow between your shoulder and your neck, or in your pretty hair, won’t I?” Glorfindel laughed, as if sensing victory.
He reached up and wrapped a golden curl around one finger. “Well, then, you’d better get on with it, because I do want you to take me.” He arched his hips to press his buttocks against Glorfindel, enjoying the chance to be wanton without worrying who would see, and perhaps judge. He felt the weight of his cock as it brushed against the grass, even that slight friction sending fresh shivers through him.
To his surprise, Glorfindel did not play, but took his arm to lead him into a seated position on the grass, then took hold of his tunic, his eyes glinting. Gildor felt a little nervous then, and it must have showed, because Glorfindel stroked his arm in silence until the shivers ceased.
“Open your mouth,” he ordered, and Gildor swallowed before complying. Glorfindel shook his head. “Wider. As wide as you can for me.”
Having no option but to trust, Gildor did so, half expecting Glorfindel to laugh at him, but he didn’t. Instead, he began to push folds of the tunic into his mouth, pressing his tongue down and filling all of the space until Gildor had to breathe through his nose. He felt an instant of panic then, and it must have showed in his widened eyes, because Glorfindel stopped, pulling him close and embracing him until he had calmed enough to continue.
“If you cannot breathe at any point,” Glorfindel said, “I want you to hit the ground with your fist. Can you do that?”
Gildor nodded slowly, and then Glorfindel continued. When his mouth was as full as it was going to get, Glorfindel twisted the arms of the tunic and used them to tie the makeshift gag in place behind his head.
“Try to make a sound now,” Glorfindel said seriously. Gildor felt slightly ridiculous, but followed the instruction, only to discover that no sound travelled from beyond his throat besides a quiet humming. Again he felt a flash of panic, and he mentally thanked Glorfindel for having him discover this now, rather than in the throes of passion. He allowed Glorfindel to embrace him again, but he calmed quickly this time.
Glorfindel kissed his forehead as he released him, then took a small bottle of oil from the basket they had brought with them. Gildor breathed quickly through his nose, so hard and wanting, he wished Glorfindel would touch him.
“Now lie down and submit to me,” he said, and Gildor tried to groan as he did it. Glorfindel did not touch him, and he suspected it was on purpose, for he’d noted his lover’s quick glance at his erection. He would come with Glorfindel inside him, from that alone, he knew it. And Glorfindel knew it too.
The sunlight backlit Glorfindel as he wet his fingers with the oil, and created a golden nimbus which dazzled him for a moment. His lover looked as mysterious and unknowable as one of the Valar, and then the warrior moved, and became Glorfindel once more. Gildor felt his heart beat a little faster, though, and he concentrated on keeping his breathing deep and even.
Silent himself, he began to listen to the sounds around him, the soft chirp of insects, and the birdsong which seemed to fill all of the valley. He could hear the waterfall, and beneath its rumble, the drip of water from the rocks above. Leaves soughed in the breeze, but above it all was the sound of his own heartbeat, slowing gradually until he was at ease once more.
Glorfindel’s finger felt thicker than usual, or perhaps it was this heightened state he was in, trading off one sense against the others. He had never quite realized how his cries were so integral to his participation, his way of letting Glorfindel know how much he enjoyed the touches and uses his lover bestowed. He would need to let his body speak for him, and his eyes.
Accordingly, he lifted his knees and opened his legs as far as he could, offering Glorfindel unrestricted access, or as much as he could do on his own. He gripped the ground, resisting the urge to touch his needy cock, knowing Glorfindel would see to his pleasure soon enough.
A warm palm came to rest upon him just there - a warning of sorts before Glorfindel took hold of his cock in a firm grip. Gildor tried to cry out, but could not, settling for the sudden jolt upwards his body gave instead. Then Glorfindel’s hand was moving, and the sound of the oil against his flesh was louder than his own stoppered moans and whimpers.
Gildor dragged in breath through his nose, only to find that his nostrils closed at the force of it, and he thrashed a little, wondering if he would need to alert Glorfindel before they’d even begun. But his lover was watching him closely, and his lover’s touch withdrew to allow Gildor to calm as necessary.
“We will go slow,” Glorfindel noted, his voice a quiet, deep rumble. Gildor did not open his eyes, and his breathing calmed enough so that the faint, dizzy feeling eased. Then he felt the pointed tip of Glorfindel’s tongue on his temple. The tears from his eyes had fallen there, and he reached out as the warrior licked the tears away from either side of his face. He buried his hands in Glorfindel’s hair desperately.
There was no voice given him to protest when Glorfindel moved away, only his longing, outstretched hands before he felt the warrior’s fingers inside him again. This time, he did not touch Gildor’s cock, and he concentrated on pulling in breath after breath, quicker and quicker, in stops and starts that Glorfindel could surely hear, for he fine tuned his caress, making it easier to bear.
At last, the moment came, and Glorfindel leaned over him, pressed at the very spot, so hard and wanting. Gildor gazed up helplessly. “Can you take it?” Glorfindel asked, and Gildor was suddenly sure he could not. A deep shudder ran through him, and his eyes were wide with something that was almost fear… yet he nodded, taking as deep a breath as he could before Glorfindel pushed, his own body’s resistance was such that the first thrust actually moved him back. Gildor was sure he screamed in abandon, yet all that escaped him was a gentle whining sound. He breathed again, then Glorfindel moved, and between them they set up a slow pattern that worked until Gildor felt his climax rushing forth.
He very nearly lost control over his breathing then, his back arching off the grass. Glorfindel pressed him back down by dint of his greater weight, and he closed his eyes when he felt the first sticky drops smear across his belly. He tried to swallow, but there was no moisture to soothe his throat. All he could do was remember to breathe in, slow and careful, his nostrils flaring with the effort.
Perhaps it was the minor oxygen deprivation caused by the gag, but his release was more intense than usual. Hot tears slid from the corners of his eyes and he closed them tightly, waiting to feel Glorfindel stutter above him. He hoped, fervently, Glorfindel would not hold back. He was not sure if he would manage much longer with the gag, and yet he could not bring himself to make a fist, and hit the ground.
As he came back to himself, as the pleasure which overcame him eased, he could feel the vibrations of his muffled outcries. He simply could not help verbalizing, he decided, and he would not have managed to remain silent without the gag. It was hard, though, harder than anything Glorfindel had asked of him yet.
He dared to open his eyes, and looked up at his lover. Glorfindel’s face was flushed with exertion, and with pleasure, and he watched Gildor like he wanted to devour him. Gildor shivered a bit under the intense scrutiny, feeling curiously exposed, and he turned his head away, his breaths ragged snorts and sharp exhalations.
He drew in another laboured breath before Glorfindel’s next movement. The flats of his palms rested against Glorfindel’s chest, and he could feel the crinkling of hair beneath his hands. He was shaking now, continually, the sensations too overwhelming to contain, and yet he could not fully let them out.
“I need to go faster,” Glorfindel said, his voice strained, and Gildor nodded in silence, his face still turned away. With permission given, Glorfindel took him without restraint while Gildor tried desperately to hold on. He was shaking because he was sobbing, he realised, but they weren’t unhappy tears. Glorfindel did things to him that no one else ever had. Even if he had played these kinds of games before, he doubted any would have drawn the response from him that Glorfindel did.
It wasn’t anything physical. It wasn't Glorfindel’s beauty, his strength, or even his size. It was something deeper. Each of these experiences Glorfindel led him to were so absolute. He wanted to share how they made him feel, how they shattered and rebuilt him, how the trust in him yearned for more, because Glorfindel was kind, and generous, and so careful with him despite it all. He felt his body speak for him, squeezing and coaxing, not in panic or fear, but in love, and it occurred to him that for all he had known other lovers, their release had never been as important as his own. With Glorfindel it was, and something in him echoed the warmth when he felt it happen, Glorfindel coming to rest within him, only taking a second before reaching to untie the gag so that he could breathe freely.
He buried his face in the warmth of Glorfindel’s shoulder, welcome saliva flooding his mouth. His cheeks were wet, and he knew he was sobbing, but it was joy, and release, and gratitude, none of which he could articulate, not yet. But he could manage a few words.
“Thank you, meleth nín,” he whispered, and his voice sounded strange to his ears.
The weight of his lover was welcome, and he felt cherished in Glorfindel’s arms. It had been a challenge, but he had managed, with Glorfindel’s care and help, and all he wanted now was to cuddle, and relax. He listened to the strong beat of Glorfindel’s heart, and it did not take long before his heart matched the rhythm, further lulling him into a light doze.
The flowers were fragrant, and the sun warm where Glorfindel did not cover him. It was idyllic, until he heard his stomach grumble. He frowned into the broad chest and nuzzled closer, doing his best to pretend he was not hungry. “Don’t move,” he grumbled, his arms around his lover. “I’m asleep.”
Glorfindel chuckled, but rested with him until his stomach grumbled too, and then it was decided that they would eat. They dawdled back to the house and a week or two passed without any incident more alarming than Gildor taking advantage of his lover’s restraints in the mornings.

To be continued...

Authors' Note: Thank you all for reading – we hope you enjoyed it, and a very merry, very happy Christmas to all our readers! May this year bring love and peace to all of us, wherever in the world we are. <333

Translations:
melethron – lover
bain nín – my beauty
meleth (nín) – (my) love
Mîr nín – my treasure
pîn edhel – little elf
Dúlinnor nín – my Nightingale
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The Lost and the Hidden City