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The Lost and the Hidden City	By : pip & BronxWench Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2742 -:- 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
- 16
- 17
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Chapter Seventeen
The ride back was much more sedate, for which Gildor was grateful, and the long relaxing soak Glorfindel insisted upon when they arrived back at the last homely house was so wonderful he was almost drowsing by the time they made it to Glorfindel’s large bed in the late afternoon. They had several hours until dinner.
“You owe me a day of orienteering now,” Gildor said lightly, when they were laid beside each other, just before he could be swept away by Glorfindel’s wandering hands.
“Is that so?”
Gildor nodded. “I will take you to a place you do not know, and leave you with just an unmarked map and a compass. It will be your job to find me.” Actually, he thought as he spoke, perhaps he should take more care of his own wandering hands. But Glorfindel was too beautiful! The warrior was resting on his back as Gildor pressed close to him, covering his chest in little kisses.
“And what will be my prize for finding you then?” Glorfindel asked, his hand combing through Gildor’s hair, now loosened from the braid of earlier.
“Why, then I will take you somewhere private,” Gildor said, and Glorfindel hummed a little, obviously imagining it. “We will get comfortable,” he said, deliberately, and Glorfindel rolled over to trap him. Gildor found he did not mind that at all. “And then…” he said, his voice trailing off as he felt how hard Glorfindel was already.
“Then?”
“Then I will show you how to draw a proper map.” Glorfindel actually giggled. It was so incongruous to see the bulky warrior giggling, Gildor laughed right along with him, then surprised himself with a yawn.
“Are you so tired, meleth nín?” Glorfindel looked down at him, and he sighed a little.
“I am not that tired, or at least, I do not believe I am. I would rather make sure I’m properly tired, you see, and then nap a little before dinner.” He turned his head, into Glorfindel’s warm palm, feeling his own hair caught in the strong fingers.
“I see.” The giggle was back in Glorfindel’s voice. “You do know you have become quite insatiable, bain nín. I am not complaining, you will notice. It is quite…” The warrior’s hand moved to cover his own arousal. “Stimulating,” he finished, as Gildor tried to press up into the touch.
“Will you claim your prize?” A delicious flutter ran through him. He was already at Glorfindel’s mercy, pinned as he was beneath the warrior. “You did vanquish me, after all.”
Glorfindel’s eyes held such desire he was nearly faint. Once again, he was confronted with the image of himself, as seen by his lover, and it was overwhelming. He never thought of himself as worthy of such regard, but he could not deny how Glorfindel treated him.
“So I did, and if you keep looking at me like that, you will have your wish, mîr nín. I will not be able to hold back.” Glorfindel’s voice was thick with lust, and he shivered, delighted to have provoked such a reaction. The tender endearments along with the heated looks from his lover intoxicated him more than any wine. He parted his legs, in unspoken acquiescence.
Deliberately, he stretched out his body as much as he could beneath Glorfindel’s. “Mmm…” he sighed. “I concede.”
Glorfindel groaned. “If you continue like this, you will have no nap before dinner, and I shall have to carry you there!” Gildor watched, a little wide-eyed, as his lover reached for the oil.
“I do not think you will be able to last that long,” he said, unable to help feeling a little breathless at Glorfindel’s words.
“Perhaps not,” Glorfindel admitted, then smiled wickedly. “But I can have you more than once, especially if I tie you up beforehand.” Gildor moaned as Glorfindel slid a finger against him, almost teasing. “After all,” he continued, “I did best you three times.”
Though Glorfindel’s words aroused him more than he could say, Gildor stole the bottle of oil from him and used some of the contents on the warrior’s cock, loving to feel it in the palm of his hand. He laughed a little. “Even you could not manage that before dinner,” he said. “I do not believe you!”
“And now you doubt me!” Glorfindel declared, sliding that finger in so that Gildor gasped beneath him. He thrust lightly into Gildor’s hand. “If I can, you owe me another spar tomorrow. If I fail, I shall submit to your orienteering.”
“Ai! I will not refuse such a wager!” Gildor managed. “You are so wicked, but I love you.”
“Then let us see how wicked I can be.” Glorfindel’s finger moved in and out, thick and sturdy, and he wanted to cry out, to press down on the welcome invader. “You will come to learn I do not like to lose.”
“Does anyone?” he gasped, his fingers closing around Glorfindel’s cock. The warrior laughed and eased out of his hand.
“Oh, hérince, it will not be that easy. Do you think you will finish me with your hand, and cheat your way to a win?” Glorfindel looked down at him, eyes dancing with merriment. “I will look forward to sparring with you again tomorrow.”
“I will be one of your guards at this rate.” He pretended to grumble, and then broke off with a soft wail when his lover crooked a finger deep within. “Wicked elf,” he admonished, as soon as he was able to manage words again. “Three times, you must have me, for the three times you won.”
“And now who is the wicked one?” Glorfindel’s laughter was music to him. “I’m not sure if you are trying to make it impossible for me to win, or if you are that greedy for me. Let us find out, shall we?”
Gildor submitted to the bindings without complaint, allowing his lover to slowly tie and test each one, certain that Glorfindel could not manage it. Not really. Except that he displayed such perfect confidence Gildor actually began to feel uneasy.
“Of course,” Glorfindel said conversationally, when Gildor was quite helpless. “You’re aware that if I manage to perform three times, you will have no choice but to match me.”
Gildor gulped. He had thought of that, and now he wondered if it would come to pass. Glorfindel’s grin was so wicked Gildor felt a little faint. “Unless you think that you might outlast me,” he teased. They both knew that was out of the question. Gildor groaned in dismay.
“Oh, don’t lose heart, bain nín,” Glorfindel said, testing him with a finger. “We will make the first one nice and quick, hmm?”
Gildor nodded, biting his lip as Glorfindel replaced his finger with his cock, taking it slow to start, giving Gildor time to adjust. Again, he was bound up by his wrists, and his knees, which left his body completely open to anything Glorfindel wished.
This time, compared to the other times between them, there was a difference in his lover. Glorfindel was not selfish - not quite - but he was definitely working relentlessly towards orgasm. Gildor could not contain his cries as the warrior took him this way. Truly, he felt like a prize or a reward. He was being used, and the difference was vast. To his utter mortification, he came very quickly, because he liked the feeling, and he could not hide it.
Glorfindel even used that, continuing to fuck him through the contractions of his climax until he felt the warrior find release in him too, pulling back quickly and away. He expected a chance to rest, so he was made suddenly breathless when Glorfindel almost immediately began to explore his body, teasing with hands and teeth, with tender kisses and nips. He shivered and moaned under the assault.
He writhed as much as his bonds allowed, arching off the bed whenever Glorfindel would find a particularly sensitive spot. The warrior was mapping his body, as if he were not already familiar territory, as if Glorfindel did not know each place on him to induce cries of need. He shivered as Glorfindel ran his nails along the tender inside of his thigh, but stopped well short of touching his cock.
Inconceivable as it was, he could feel himself responding, the first tingles of desire sparking through his belly. He was barely filling out -- it was too soon for that -- but his balls were growing just that much tighter, and he felt himself clench as a small trickle of Glorfindel’s seed slipped out.
Glorfindel chuckled, and it made him gasp when he looked down, to see Glorfindel’s hand cup his sac. “You are full of surprises, are you not? And here I thought I might have to work a little harder to rouse you.” The warrior’s strong fingers were gentle as his balls were rolled in one warm palm. “I think it would be easy to spend an eternity exploring you, and all your secrets.”
“Such a wicked elf,” he managed, biting his lip when one finger moved, to stroke below his sac. He was almost afraid, for a moment, because he was sure it would be too much for Glorfindel to touch him there, like that, so soon. But when the finger moved away, he felt a curious disappointment, and he writhed in frustration. “You have me at odds with myself,” he protested. “I do not know if I want you or want to beg for mercy.”
The admission earned another chuckle. “You are well past any hope of mercy, mîr nín. I have no intention of relinquishing my pretty prize, no matter how he cries out for parole.” Glorfindel sat back, idly stroking his cock to its full thickness. “You are far too beautiful like this, spread open for my enjoyment, and flushed with your own need.”
He felt another trickle escape as his body clenched in anticipation, his eyes riveted to the movement of Glorfindel’s hand.
“Oh, I know you want it,” Glorfindel said, then chuckled, moving forward to cover Gildor again. “But you know it will take longer this time, don’t you?”
Gildor bit his lip and nodded, twisting his hands, only to find he really was quite helpless. The realisation made his blood burn, and he sighed despite himself. He closed his eyes, expecting nothing else but the feeling of Glorfindel breaching him again, so the tender kiss caught him entirely by surprise.
It was sweet and loving, encouraging, unhurried, one of Glorfindel’s hands resting on the side of his cheek. The other… Gildor realised that his lover was still touching himself, and as Glorfindel drew back, he opened his eyes slightly.
“I don’t think you will last the same way,” Glorfindel noted, staring into his eyes. Gildor opened his mouth to protest, but then he felt it, the beginning of that slow push forward. Glorfindel felt huge as he passed that first ring of muscle, and Gildor felt the burn of it, hissing in discomfort.
“It will ease,” Glorfindel promised, but did not stop, feeding himself inside, inch by inch. Here, drawing back slightly, holding himself steady with his fingers. Gildor could feel those fingers on the stretched skin around his entrance. Gildor heard himself whimper.
“Almost there,” Glorfindel said, his voice deep in Gildor’s ear as he leaned his whole body forward. “You are doing well.”
But it felt forced - too soon - until the first couple of movements from Glorfindel settled something, and he was as hard as before as he moved in and out, those thrusts longer and deeper. Gildor let go of a tremulous moan.
“Save your voice, Dúlinnor,” Glorfindel advised, and that just made it more difficult to stay quiet! He truly was wicked, and yet despite that, and even though the pain did not really lessen, Gildor loved it. Glorfindel’s possession of his body was something he could not seem to reject, and soon he was lost in it, his own cock hard and leaking against his belly.
Despite Glorfindel’s instruction, he could not help small whimpers from escaping him. He was entirely vulnerable, spread out beneath his lover, and he could not help wondering why it felt so right. He simply could not deny his lover anything.
He was hot, his skin already slick, and he turned his head from side to side to try and distract himself. His hips could not seem to stay quite still, and he alternated between pressing down into the mattress as hard as he could, and then yearning upward when Glorfindel withdrew. He was completely wanton, and he did not care one bit if all the guards in Imladris knew what was happening here, in Glorfindel’s room. Let them know, he thought. He would not regret a moment of this.
As he writhed, he realised he should have been sore, after the exertion with Glorfindel, but he was not nearly as sore as he would have expected. He felt, if anything, stronger, although he would never be the equal of his lover in battle. No one could hope to be Glorfindel’s equal. But given time, he decided, he might even win. Once.
His efforts at distracting himself were useless, though. He could feel the pressure building, the need to let himself go and spill. He was already beginning to clench around Glorfindel, each time a brief reminder of how very large his lover was, and how very full he was. The instant of pain was part of the pleasure, and he would be a fool to deny how he loved the challenge it represented. How many other lovers had been able to bring him to such pinnacles?
“I cannot,” he whispered, and he felt hot tears leak from the corners of his eyes as the need built to unbearable levels. “Let me, please…” He felt Glorfindel’s fingers around him, at the base, and he whined as his lover pressed hard, pushing the moment back. “Wicked, wicked,” he hissed, and heard Glorfindel’s chuckle.
“Oh, no, bain nín,” Glorfindel said. “I don’t want you relaxing. I want you nice and hot and tight around me. Desperate, even.” His words caused Gildor’s body to give a delicate flutter, and Glorfindel groaned in appreciation. “See. Just like that.”
“But, I… are you even close? Tell me you are!” Gildor pleaded. In the back of his mind he was aware that if Glorfindel could summon his flesh, he would face this another time before dinner. How far away was dinner? It seemed like the only thing that might save him now.
“Here, I will help you,” Glorfindel said, his fingers teasing one of Gildor’s nipples, causing his body to spasm slightly. “Very nice,” he commented, his other hand still preventing Gildor’s release.
He began to put effort into pleasing Glorfindel with his body, enduring the warrior’s praise with whispered pleas for mercy. A timeless period passed, and it seemed that all Gildor knew any longer was the steady, constant in and out of Glorfindel’s cock. And then at last, he felt the telltale signs of his lover’s imminent climax, and he cried out in joy as Glorfindel finally released him, his own end claiming him quickly, and when he came around it was over.
And yet, when he blinked and looked for Glorfindel, it was only to see him cleaning himself with a cloth and a bowl of water before attempting to coax his cock to harden again, and Gildor shook his head. “No more, please! I concede,” he said, desperate, really struggling now as Glorfindel watched him. Seemingly, his response stoked something in his lover - he could see it happening. “I will spar with you!” Gildor vowed. “But let me be, at least for a while. I cannot bear it again. Not so soon.”
“You are so quick to surrender? I thought you would have more fight in you.” Glorfindel watched him, expressionless, and once again, he was reminded of a great, golden cat as it toyed with a mouse just before devouring it. He was as defenceless as that mouse, or so it seemed. “I’m sure we can find other ways to amuse ourselves while you recover sufficiently.”
He swallowed as Glorfindel straddled his chest, and brushed a finger over his lips. “Let us see if you can persuade me, bain nín, with your talented mouth.”
He felt a rush of relief. This he could do, and he parted his lips to permit Glorfindel to enter, his cock not even barely tumescent yet. It made it easier to accommodate the warrior’s girth, and his tongue curled around the bulbous head lovingly. He felt Glorfindel lift his head, adding a pillow to improve the angle, and he purred thanks without releasing his lover.
Glorfindel dug strong fingers into his hair, holding his head in place as his arousal grew, and Gildor’s mouth opened wider to encompass his lover. The warrior’s hips rocked as he thrust, and Gildor mewled as he felt Glorfindel’s cock touch the back of his throat. He did not know how his mouth could possibly open so wide, but it did, and he swallowed hastily as Glorfindel withdrew.
“You are so very good at this,” Glorfindel purred, and he felt a rush of pride. “I think I am ready for the final instalment of my prize.” He withdrew slowly from Gildor’s mouth, and moved back between his legs.
Gildor wanted to beg for Glorfindel to come back, but he did not. The warrior tested him with a finger first, and that one digit felt like a cock in him. Gildor squeezed his eyes closed. His body felt so well-used. Fortunately, Glorfindel applied more oil, and the soreness eased, at least a little.
Still, when his lover penetrated him again, Gildor cried out. This one sounded deep, pain mixed with pleasure, and Gildor instinctively struggled. Glorfindel stopped still.
“Bain nín,” he said, his voice soothing. “It is because you have forgotten to relax that you feel it so keenly.” Gildor opened his eyes, and was met with Glorfindel’s calm blue gaze. How did he know? He could feel his body contracting, trying to push Glorfindel out, but the warrior held firm.
“Do you trust me?” Glorfindel asked, and Gildor nodded at once. “Have I ever asked you to do something you truly could not bear?”
Gildor was conflicted. “No, but -” A finger covered his lips before he could speak of the game they were playing.
“Open up to me,” Glorfindel urged, and Gildor could not help that it worked. He felt his body easing already. Glorfindel swept his hands up the inside of Gildor’s thighs from the inside of his knees, and it made him feel like spreading out wider to encourage more of that touch. “That is right, bain nín,” Glorfindel praised. “Be easy for me because I care for you, because I love you, because I want you more than any other elf I have ever known.”
Oh, that was so wicked and perfect, and as Gildor stared into Glorfindel’s eyes, he also realised it was true. His heart felt strengthened, while his body answered the warrior’s call, even if Gildor was still partly thinking about Glorfindel’s inevitable victory.
His body did relax, and the pleasure soon cancelled out the pain as Glorfindel began to move in him. The pain really was gone, and Gildor did not know how, but perhaps Glorfindel did. He seemed to know more about all of these things, seemed to know how to tame Gildor’s body, heart and soul, even when his mind protested.
It did not even seem important any longer to know Glorfindel would win their bet. Part of him wanted that. Part of him wanted Glorfindel to take him to spar again, with the full knowledge he would be taken on the spot next time. Knowing he would be well loved even as he was taken, knowing no matter how high Glorfindel’s blood was, he would be loved, that was enough.
He moved with Glorfindel, as much as he could move, and his body responded without need for thought. Every bit of him seemed sensitised, his senses heightened so he could smell the arousal which smeared itself across his belly, and taste Glorfindel on his lips. He felt the silk of Glorfindel’s curls as they brushed his heated skin, and he watched the nuances of pleasure dance deep within his lover’s eyes.
Finding release seemed a distant thing. He was not sure he was even capable, not yet, not so soon, but it did not matter. All that mattered was the way Glorfindel moved, in and out, filling him and drawing him out at the very same time. He arched and moaned, not bothering to press down into the mattress any longer. There was no escape, and he had no desire to look for it even if the possibility existed. His world had shrunk to the boundaries of Glorfindel’s bed.
“Say it for me,” Glorfindel urged, and he looked up to see love reflected back at him. He licked his lips as he tried to remember what it was he was supposed to say. When he recalled, he brightened despite exhaustion.
“Glorfindel,” he whispered, and then again, louder. “Glorfindel.”
His lover’s smile was so dazzling, Gildor closed his eyes as he repeated it again. “I told you to save your voice,” Glorfindel noted, and he was aware that the warrior had changed position slightly.
When he looked again, Glorfindel was sat back slightly on his heels, knees pressed into the mattress. One strong hand slid beneath the small of Gildor’s back to hold him in the correct position so that Glorfindel could rock forward and back, watching.
With his other hand, he got a firm hold of Gildor’s cock and pumped it slowly, in time with his rocking. Gildor had never known such intense pleasure, and he wailed and keened, his lower legs kicking out, but he had no leverage. All he could do was watch as Glorfindel completely undid him, watch himself, his stomach muscles rippling with approaching climax.
“That’s is it,” Glorfindel encouraged, not looking up, focused on what was happening below. “Come on,” he almost growled. “Take me with you, melethron.”
Gildor’s entire body seized and became still. “Oh, don’t stop!” he begged, and with Glorfindel’s next movement it was there, and Gildor was lost in the pulse of it, only distantly aware of how hard and deep Glorfindel was in him suddenly, and then giving it up too, coming inside him - again. Gildor had never felt so utterly owned.
“Glorfindel,” he whispered, once more, and felt like he might faint. There was nothing left in him he hadn’t given.
“Gildor.” Glorfindel’s voice trembled just a little, nearly breaking over the word. “My Gildor, my precious lover.”
He felt Glorfindel’s weight, not all of it, but enough to anchor him and keep him from coming apart. His lips were salty with tears when he licked them, and he could feel his heart beating like a captive wren in his chest, frantic and tremulous. He yearned to touch his lover, but his wrists were still bound firmly.
“Such a gift you’ve given me,” Glorfindel murmured, and the weight eased somewhat. He keened, but a finger on his lips stilled him. “Let me release you, bain nín.”
He felt his wrists freed, and then each knee, and he let his feet fall flat on either side of Glorfindel. He stroked Glorfindel’s face, fingers gliding over the planes and angles he knew as well as his own face. He could find no words, nothing to express what he felt, and so he was silent.
Glorfindel settled back down again, his weight not as oppressive as it should have been. He welcomed the feeling, and wrapped his arms around the warrior to pull him even closer. Empty as he was, he craved the touch as confirmation he was still there, still real. Valar knew, he might have floated away otherwise.
He was just drifting off when Glorfindel spoke, and he was not sure how long it had been that they lay there together. “We will need to get clean before dinner,” Glorfindel murmured, one hand stroking Gildor’s hair affectionately.
Gildor groaned, and his voice was rough-sounding. He didn’t open his eyes. “There are hours before dinner,” he said tiredly. “Don’t you want some time to enjoy your victory over me?”
“We used up two and half of those already,” Glorfindel said. Gildor’s eyes snapped open at that. Two and a half hours?! He sat up, dislodging Glorfindel’s hands, only then realising Glorfindel had moved at some point to lie beside him on the bed. His body ached everywhere, and he looked down at himself with a grimace.
His stomach and chest were covered with his own drying essence, and he realised with dismay that his inner thighs were sticky and wet. Quite suddenly, he knew it would be worse when he stood up. “Ai, Valar,” he said in dismay. “I am filthy.” He looked over at Glorfindel, and couldn’t help noting he’d got off rather lightly in comparison.
“Yes,” Glorfindel agreed amiably. “And you smell of sex.” He sat up and nuzzled Gildor’s neck, prompting him to voice a little squeak of alarm. Glorfindel chuckled.
“Oh, don’t worry, bain nín,” he said, with a great deal of amusement. “You are quite safe from me for at least a few hours. I’m empty.”
Empty. At the word, Gildor realised something else. “I am famished. I have to go to dinner! How long do we have?”
Glorfindel chuckled again, nibbling delicately on Gildor’s ear tip. “I expect we have an hour, perhaps an hour and a half. Do you think you can walk?”
“I am not sure I even know my name,” he admitted. “But Let me try. I would rather get to the baths under my own power. I am sure I’m the talk of the guard for enough as it is, without being carried about the place like a fainting elleth.” He shot Glorfindel a peevish look. “I suppose you will want to spar tomorrow, won’t you?”
Now Glorfindel laughed, helping him to slide cautiously off the bed. “Perhaps that is a discussion best left for after dinner. How do you feel?”
He stood, his knees shaky. “I feel as if I were run over by a pack of wargs, and I smell worse than a dwarven tavern.” His stomach growled on cue. “And I am as hungry as if I’d fasted for a solid moon. I think I understand why you eat as you do.”
Glorfindel looked taken aback, and it was all he could do not to laugh at his lover’s expression. “What do you mean? I eat no differently than any other here.”
“No, that is quite true.” HIs eyes twinkled as he sighed, and staggered over to the wardrobe to find something to put in. He was so grubby, he could not bear the thought of any of his robes touching him.
“Well, then?” Glorfindel demanded. He found an older robe, slightly faded, and offered it to Gildor, and then took another robe for after the bath. It was the sort of unconscious yet tender thing Glorfindel did, and he smiled sweetly at his lover, relishing the moment before he spoke again.
“You just eat for two, don’t you?”
Glorfindel’s bluster in response made him laugh, but there was nothing truly bad-natured in his lover, and Gildor found himself glad of it, because he needed Glorfindel’s strong arm to lean upon as they walked.
It wasn’t the sex, he told himself firmly, even though his body ached absolutely everywhere, and he was covered in bodily fluids. Rather it was his thigh that still ached from the hit Glorfindel had scored against him earlier. He did not suppose himself injured, merely in need of rest, and yet that didn’t ease his mortification when they passed a couple of guards in the corridor.
Thankfully, Glorfindel did not seem minded to stop and chat, and they made it to the baths without further incident. Gildor reflected that they seemed to spend an awful lot of time in the baths, but at least they had the warm waters to themselves. Gildor was not certain he possessed the nerve to display the results of their lovemaking if they had found themselves with an audience for this.
He stripped off the robe quickly and eased into the water with a sigh. But to be clean required more than simply relaxing in the water, and dinner was almost upon them. Gildor set to work, feeling more weary than he could ever remember, directing little glares and sighs of consternation at Glorfindel all the while, who seemed highly amused by it all.
By the time he had rid his skin of it all, there was only time to almost crawl out of the bath and dry off before dressing in the clothes he’d brought. Glorfindel too. Gildor sat down on the bench, carefully, and bent over with his head between his knees. He felt Glorfindel’s loving hands pressing between his shoulder blades, kneading at his sore muscles, and he groaned.
“Do not ply me with wine tonight, meleth, else I am liable to fall asleep at the table,” he warned. It had been the longest day of this past century, he was sure. To his surprise Glorfindel agreed quickly, and Gildor looked up, suspicious, but saw only loving sympathy in Glorfindel’s eyes. He yawned and stood up just as the bell sounded.

To be continued...

Authors' Note: Thank you for reading, we hope you had fun! Why not leave a kudos or comment as encouragement? See you next week. :)
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The Lost and the Hidden City