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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
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Chapter Two
Gildor woke, pleasantly sore and surprisingly rested given how little he had actually slept. He turned his head, smiling at the vision that was Glorfindel in the morning. Golden curls tumbled over Gildor’s arm, where Glorfindel’s head rested, and a small smile graced the mouth Gildor had kissed with such passion. He could not help a sigh of appreciation for such beauty, right there, in his arms.
Glorfindel’s strong chest rose and fell, and Gildor contemplated the peak of one nipple, debating how he wanted to wake his lover. He was amused to note his reaction to that notion, his cock rising in anticipation. And truth be told, he did want to know if his little deception had been uncovered. Either way, he would make sure this was a new beginning for them both.
Unable to resist temptation, Gildor flicked his tongue out at that nipple, sneaking a glance at Glorfindel’s face as he did it. Glorfindel moaned in his sleep but did not otherwise respond. Gildor did it again, then again, sneaking his free hand down to touch and finding the warrior’s morning erection. He bit his lip, and considered. Despite his efforts, Glorfindel was still sleeping.
Feeling more than a little wicked, Gildor did not use his tongue this time, but bit Glorfindel’s nipple lightly. Not even enough to hurt, but the warrior’s reaction was immediate.
Without quite understanding how it happened, Gildor found himself flipped onto his back with Glorfindel holding him down to the bed. “You looked pretty,” Gildor said with a startled gulp, “sleeping.” He tried to move, but Glorfindel was holding him in such a way.
Gildor lifted his hips, letting his cock brush against Glorfindel’s thigh. He tilted his head to look up at the blond elf as he offered a smile he hoped was sufficient to placate the warrior. When he saw the corner of Glorfindel’s mouth twitch, almost imperceptibly, he relaxed.
“You do know it is unwise to wake anyone who has been trained for battle so abruptly.” Glorfindel held Gildor’s wrists firmly, pinning them above his head in one strong hand. His thighs were pinned beneath Glorfindel, and the warrior used his free hand to trace lazy circles around Gildor’s nipple.
Gildor went for the bluff. “You were not quite so quick to throw me around, like a sack of old cloth, when we last knew each other.” He hissed a little as Glorfindel’s finger drew closer to his nipple.
Glorfindel smirked. “If I threw you around, you would know about it,” he said, and continued to tease, looking deep into Gildor’s eyes. He pushed his chest up, but it did not help, and he made a sound of frustrated dismay, trying to ignore how hot and crowded Glorfindel was making him feel.
“Next time, I will restrain you while you are sleeping, then tease you until you cannot think,” Gildor said. That finger brushed against his nipple, and he gasped.
“Oh, wait,” said Glorfindel, as if realising something. “That isn’t right. What did you do?” Glorfindel dipped his head and teased that same nipple with his teeth, not quite enough to hurt.
Gildor cried out, all too well aware that elves would be stirring and moving about the halls, on their way to breakfast, or to find a bath. He had not been able to help himself, however. Glorfindel had surprised him with the swift retribution for his own teasing. “I am at your mercy, but I am not sure if pleading would help.” He arched upward again, but Glorfindel was having none of it.
“You are so very beautiful like this,” he observed. “Your cheeks are flushed, and even the tips of your ears are blushing. Your eyes are wide, and I can feel your heart beating like a small trapped songbird. It is very tempting to keep you just like this.”
“B-but you can’t just…” Gildor gulped. “Keep me.” Something in his heart dropped in excitement at the thought, imagining himself awaiting Glorfindel’s attention, time after time. “Today I had planned to show you some of the great sights of the valley,” he babbled, aware that Glorfindel bestowed a look of tender amusement on him.
“I have the best view right here,” Glorfindel said. “And as for how you feel. Each time your body feels as exquisite as the first time. I think you will feel that way again when I take you now.”
Gildor moaned but did not speak, wriggling in Glorfindel’s grip uselessly. All night, and then all day? He was not sure he could take such use. “But I will not be able to walk properly,” he blurted. “People will notice!” Glorfindel chuckled.
“If they do, you have only yourself to blame.” Glorfindel cupped Gildor’s hip, his large hand rough and warm. He has a warrior’s calluses, Gildor thought and then he shivered when the hand moved to his cock, the thumb caressing the vein which traveled up along the underside. “And I do not think this argues for me to stop, hm?”
Gildor’s only response was a moan, and he could not help thrusting into Glorfindel’s hand, although Glorfindel loosened his grip to rob Gildor of even that small amount of friction. “Wicked, wicked elf,” he protested.
“That is not what you cried out last night.” Glorfindel watched him avidly, and Gildor was sure his very fëa lay bare before that piercing gaze. “Shall I have you again, my captive beauty? Or was there something you wanted to ask me?”
“We can talk later.” Gildor could feel the heat in his cheeks, his colour surely rising. With luck, Glorfindel would think it arousal, and not shame for his deception. He shivered at the thought of blurting out the truth if pressed later. And again, he hoped his shiver would pass for anticipation. Oh, he was not made for such deceit!
“You are very eager now,” Glorfindel noted, “compared to five minutes ago.” Gildor moaned as Glorfindel encouraged him to spread his legs. “Do we need more oil?” he asked, and one finger pressed against him, seeking entry. Gildor hissed as he was still slightly sore, but the way was easy. Glorfindel hummed in appreciation, looking into Gildor’s eyes.
He felt possessed from that touch alone, knowing that Glorfindel would be inside him again soon, and he was caught in that cool blue gaze. “I will answer the question you refuse to ask,” Glorfindel said, and Gildor’s heart skipped a beat.
Then there were lips on his, pressing lightly, just the tip of Glorfindel’s tongue encouraging him to open his mouth, but then he drew back, though his finger was still moving in and out, over and over, almost teasing. “I knew from the first moment I breached you,” Glorfindel said, his tone neutral. “We never knew each other until last night.”
Gildor did not look away. “No, we did not,” he admitted. “At least not outside my dreams. But it seemed you thought we had, and I would have, had you asked, you know.” He sighed. “Will you forgive my deception?”
Now all he could do was wait, in the hope that he had not damaged the budding relationship between them. Glorfindel still teased him with one finger, his expression resolutely inscrutable. It was all he could do not to wriggle, pinned as he was by the finger and that gaze. While his game had lost its lustre, his desire for Glorfindel had not waned in the slightest.
“If you would go to such lengths to know me like this,” Glorfindel mused. “How can I do anything else but forgive?” Gildor shivered and relaxed, feeling a smile on his face as he closed his eyes, and he was glad.
“Besides which,” Glorfindel continued. “You feel so good I couldn’t leave you alone now even if I wanted to.”
The finger left, and Glorfindel moved so that his cock was pressed against Gildor there. “Ready?” he asked, and Gildor opened his eyes and nodded consent, biting his lip.
“I think so,” he said, and Glorfindel smiled.
“That look right there,” Glorfindel said. “I could become addicted to it.”
Gildor felt his cheeks warm again, but this time it was a joyful thing. “I would not mind it, although it might be nice to be able to walk from time to time,” he teased.
Glorfindel pressed past the slight resistance, until he was seated once again within Gildor’s heat, dragging gasps of pleasure from them both.
“Tell me this,” Glorfindel said, while resting for a moment, to allow Gildor to settle. “Did I at least live up to the dreams?”
“You surpassed the very best of them.” Gildor wriggled a little beneath the warrior. “Now, do you think you could move? I am sure there are some elves who have not heard my cries of delight, and I would so hate for them to feel left out.” His grin was full of cheek.
Glorfindel’s eyes twinkled. “I am going to make you regret saying that,” he promised, and Gildor felt his heart flip, but before he could respond, Glorfindel was moving.
At first, he’d thought Glorfindel would take him fast and deep to make him cry out, but instead it was slow. So perfectly timed that Gildor’s body began to anticipate each press forward, each pulling away, and his body tightened and relaxed unconsciously, until he shocked himself with a deep moan.
Still Glorfindel continued with the same motion, so constant, almost lazy; anticipation followed by pleasure, over and over again, until Gildor was crying out loudly, unaware and uncaring if he was heard or not. Glorfindel never changed the speed or the weight of his movement, and yet Gildor’s climax built in him like a crescendo and he wondered if he would come without Glorfindel even touching his cock.
Glorfindel looked like one of the Valar themselves, gilded by the early morning sun until Gildor could hardly bear to gaze on him. He was caught in the spell Glorfindel wove, his voice breaking over each cry, until he felt one large hand close around his aching cock. He could not be sure who cried out with wanton need then. All he knew was pleasure, and the shape of Glorfindel as he closed around the magnificent cock within. He did not think it possible, but he spilled.
Glorfindel did not even pause for a beat, and he still held Gildor down to the bed as he did it, until Gildor’s cries were sobs of overstimulation and pleas for Glorfindel to find release. At last then something changed, and Glorfindel set his hands free to hold him close, almost lifting him bodily from the bed as he thrust deep and quickly, finding an end at last.
“Well, I think all of Imladris must have heard you now,” Glorfindel teased, his fingers caressing Gildor’s face. With his arms set free, Gildor had wrapped them around his lover and held him close.
“They will be jealous of me then,” he said, uncaring but happy. “And so they should be, for I have the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower.” He paused. “Even if he is a wicked tease.” With a smile to take the sting out of his last comment, he kissed Glorfindel on the lips, then the nose, then the forehead. “Let us get up and bathe, before they come to see if we have killed each other with pleasure!”
“And then we will see if there is anything left for our breakfast, or if the young Lords of Imladris have eaten it all.” Glorfindel snorted. “I would not put too much weight on that title, however. The House of the Golden Flower no longer exists, and I am Lord of nothing more than my own heart.”
“Do you truly think that? I would disagree. I see the elves you train here, and how they look at you. You are Glorfindel, who defended Gondolin, who bought the safety of Tuor and Idril, and their son Eärendil, father of Lord Elrond, with his very life, and who was returned from the Halls of Waiting to protect Imladris.” Gildor’s voice was gentle, despite the strength of his words. “Do not discount who you were, because it is what makes you who you are.”
Glorfindel’s smile warmed Gildor’s heart. “When did you become such an orator?”
“When I saw you returned to us, and began to practice ways to win your heart,” Gildor teased. He found a loose night robe, suitable for a stroll to the baths, and then rummaged for one that might hope to fit the muscular Glorfindel. “And this is hopeless. You are going to need to hold this tight, unless you wish to be exposed to all.” He offered Glorfindel the largest of his night robes with a wry grin.
When Glorfindel had put the robe on, Gildor couldn’t contain a giggle at the sight. The dark blue satin gaped open at Glorfindel’s chest, and every step he took ensured an unseemly length of his muscled thigh was on show. But at least it covered the parts it must.
“We will call at my rooms anyway,” Glorfindel said, “for fresh clothes.” He scooped up his garments from the day before, and they ventured out into the hall. It was quiet - they were later than either of them had supposed, and Gildor preceded Glorfindel into his private quarters upon invitation.
He barely had time to take in the layout of the room before Glorfindel was kissing him, crowding him until he ducked to escape. “Absolutely not,” he said. “We are late enough.”
“What exactly are we late for?” Glorfindel asked between kisses. “I seem to recall you offering to show me the sights of Imladris. Do some of them vanish?” His lips were warm against Gildor’s throat, and a sigh escaped Gildor at the caresses.
“Breakfast. We are late for breakfast.” Gildor wriggled again in an attempt to free himself. “I know I am famished after last night.”
“And this morning,” Glorfindel agreed. He shifted a muscular thigh and pinned Gildor. “I suppose we do need to keep up our strength, if we want to take in the sights.” There was a note in his voice which made Gildor look up sharply. Glorfindel looked resolutely innocent, however, an impression which was almost believable.
“What are you thinking, you wicked elf?” Gildor managed to work his way out from under Glorfindel’s arms.
“I was thinking you are the only sight worth seeing.”
Gildor resolutely refused to be seduced - again - even though he was so unnaturally aware of the bed he had to deliberately ignore it. He pulled open a wardrobe. “I’ll wager you say that to all your lovers,” he said. It wasn’t that he was uneasy with the compliment, just that he had never dreamed to hear Glorfindel say such a thing.
Despite their activities in his own bedroom, he felt hyper aware when Glorfindel stood behind him, and almost leaned back. Even after their long night he stilled smelled wonderful. “I’ll take the silver robe and let you pick me some breeches and a tunic,” Glorfindel said into his ear.
Gildor nodded and reached for the clothing, the silver robe too, only when he turned around Glorfindel had not moved. As he leaned his head back to evade the kiss, he saw the mirror, set into the wardrobe door. He watched Glorfindel for a moment, his large hands on Gildor’s ribs, bending to brush his lips over Gildor’s neck.
“Ahem!” Gildor cleared his throat loudly, causing Glorfindel to look up, then thrust the clothes at him and escaped out into the corridor. He could hear Glorfindel’s laughter for all of a minute before Glorfindel joined him, clothes in hand, dressed in the silver robe, which covered his body properly. Gildor was surprised to find himself slightly regretful as he stared at the warrior’s covered chest. Glorfindel was the best sight in Imladris.

To be continued...

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The Lost and the Hidden City