Realization

Title: Realization
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Author: Lynsey
Websites: see links under userinfo
Beta: None
Chapter: 3/?
Word Count This Chapter: 2153
Pairings: Glorfindel/Erestor, OC/Erestor
Rating: R this chapter
Warnings: AU
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or its characters. I make no money from this fiction.
Summary: The realization of who you are and where you belong is never easy.
A/N: Sequel to “Tolerance”


Erestor sat patiently in the little multi-purpose room that Glorfindel’s apartment boasted. It served the Captain as a living room, a study, a library, an office, and, most recently, it had served as Erestor’s bedchamber. The dark elf had ordered their dinner earlier, and he was now waiting for it to be brought to the rooms. Glorfindel should arrive any moment, and they would have a nice, quiet meal together.

Or at least, Erestor planned on starting out with a nice, quiet meal. However, he had to admit to himself that he planned on so much more than just eating. In all of his brash innocence, Erestor was planning on seducing his betrothed. Granted, he had absolutely no experience in this matter, and in all likelihood Glorfindel would derive his intentions from the word go, but his young, hormonal body just didn’t want to wait anymore. This probably won’t work but…at he had to at least try.

Before his wrist fell off.

A knock on the door brought Erestor to his feet. He answered promptly, and helped the serving maid to bring in the covered dishes from the kitchen. They arranged them on the small, dark wood table that graced the space in front of the fire. Erestor bid the maid good evening, and he put the last touch on the arrangement by lighting three tapers in silver holders.

As he lit the last candle, Glorfindel entered the apartment. The look on the Lord’s face was blissful as he gazed upon the scene in front of him. Erestor had donned a white muslin shirt that was under a long, dark blue vest. His leggings were of the same color blue as his vest, and the dark elf was barefoot. Erestor’s hair was unbound and tumbled across his shoulders and down his back to his buttocks while the blue in his clothing struck glistening, cerulean highlights in the ebony locks. Erestor knew he was beautiful, thanks to Glorfindel’s constant reminders. He’d carefully picked out this particular outfit. It made him look not only beautiful but older, which Erestor hoped would dampen Glorfindel’s reluctance to take their physical intimacy past a few fiery kisses.

Erestor stood facing the warrior, and Glorfindel watched as the young scribe lifted the long match to his lips, shielded by his hand. He blew out the flame, and he looked up at Glorfindel through the smeared soot of his lashes and the lingering trails of smoke wafting from the match.

Glorfindel blew out a breath as if he had been physically punched. By the Valar, that young thing was beautiful, and tonight he was a temptation stretching the limits of Glorfindel’s honor.

Erestor smiled and put the match down on a small, silver plate.

“Welcome home, my Lord. Dinner is served.” Erestor gestured to the plates and glasses adorning the table.

Glorfindel sighed happily and strode across the room to take Erestor in his arms. The young elf let Glorfindel embrace him and buried his face in the crook of Glorfindel’s neck. They stayed that way for many moments, holding each other gently. Reluctantly, Glorfindel pulled back and gave Erestor a chaste kiss. “You are the light of my old soul,” he whispered with his lips pressed to Erestor’s forehead. Breaking the hold the warrior had on him, Erestor reached upward and placed his lips against Glorfindel’s. Sighing, the Seneschal allowed the kiss. Erestor was getting very good at this. The darkling immediately relinquished control of the kiss to the warrior, who invaded the soft, hot mouth with his tongue. He played for a moment, coaxing Erestor’s slick muscle to dance with his.

With great reluctance, and a soft protest from Erestor, Glorfindel broke the kiss and rested his lips against Erestor’s smooth brow. “We should eat lovely one, before the food gets cold.”

Erestor sighed with reluctance and moved away slightly. “Sit next to me then?”

“Of course,” Glorfindel conceded. He hastily moved the chairs so they stood next to each other. They seated themselves in the red velvet lined, mahogany chairs. Glorfindel poured two goblets of cider while Erestor lifted the covers from the trays of food. Small bowls of a rich, tomato soup filled with beans, round noodles, and carrots stood next to little plates of a light salad topped with rare olives and vinaigrette dressing. Hot bread crusted with salt and garlic was wrapped inside a white cloth and placed in a wicker basket. The main course was a staple food in Imladris, but together with the sides it made for a wonderful meal. Large, flat noodles were arranged inside a large bowl and topped with a combination of spicy tomato sauce and creamy, delicate cheese sauce that complimented each other beautifully. It was made frequently because it was so easy to produce in mass quantities, but neither Glorfindel nor Erestor minded as they began their meal.

Dessert was a rare and sensual treat that Erestor had bargained with the cook for. In exchange for copying and re-binding several of the elf’s books, Erestor had received a delicacy highly coveted in Imladris. A crispy, but at the same time soft pastry was wrapped around a filling of sweet, thick crème. It was topped by a scarcely seen luxury: chocolate.

Erestor, idea suddenly ringing in his mind, lifted a small amount of the sweet, creamy substance on the tip of his finger and coyly offered it to the other elf.

Despite his better judgment, Glorfindel took the treat with his tongue. He lapped the cream from Erestor’s finger slowly, savoring the rich, light dessert. The darkling’s breath caught at the feeling, a surprised and delighted little smile playing on his lips.

Glorfindel copied Erestor with his own dessert and offered a taste to the younger elf. Erestor happily sucked the finger into his mouth, closing his eyes to savor the feeling and possibly pretend that it was a very different part of Glorfindel’s anatomy that he sucked and laved with his tongue.

Reluctantly, Glorfindel pulled his finger from Erestor’s mouth. The darkling couldn’t, didn’t want to stop. He leaned forward and captured Glorfindel’s mouth with his own very eager lips. It was hotter this time, more demanding and heavy. They could taste the lingering traces of sweet and chocolate in each other’s mouths. Erestor climbed out of his chair and into Glorfindel’s lap. He needed to be closer, to feel the heat and strength of the other elf against him.

“You are a temptation that I can barely resist,” Glorfindel murmured as his lips left Erestor’s. One of Glorfindel’s hands traced small circles on Erestor’s lower back while the other tangled in all that black, black hair.

“Then stop resisting,” Erestor pleaded, his young body clamoring for satisfaction.

“Gods,” Glorfindel swore as he once again took Erestor’s lips in a deep, searching kiss. The warrior stood with Erestor in his arms. He hauled his bundle to the small couch situated along the wall between a desk and a bookshelf. He lay the smaller elf down and practically fell on top of him. His warrior’s hands searched and explored Erestor’s body through his cloths, and the young elf cried out in pleasure, his inexperience only making everything more intense.

“Yes, oh,” Erestor hissed. It was an amazing feeling, having that big, strong body covering him. By the Valar he needed this so badly. Despite his youth and inexperience, his body reacted in a very knowing way. He pressed upwards, raw and eager. Legs parted further, letting Glorfindel settle heavier into the cradle of his thighs. The youth was frantic, although no less so than Glorfindel. Their lips slanted against each other, tasting and parting and clashing over and over. Glorfindel’s hands pushed up and under the darkling’s shirt and vest. His hands were impatient as they kneaded the ripe, hot flesh.

Glorfindel started rocking into the smaller body unconsciously. Erestor’s cries increased in passion, and he pressed back. The rhythm was nothing like smooth, but it was more than enough for a frenzied, needy youth.

Glorfindel only came to his senses when the delicious elf under him shuddered in passion and bowed sharply. The warrior realized that Erestor had found his peak, and he slid off the couch to kneel on the floor facing Erestor.

Erestor lay on the couch, eyes closed, legs parted and bent at the knees. His hair was everywhere, and his clothes were rumpled. Breath came in heavy panting while his hands clenched and unclenched the fabric of the furniture. A large, damp patch was soaking its way through the darkling’s leggings. The darkling kept whispering, “Oh gods, oh gods,” under his breath and he bit his swollen lower lip. He was erotic at a level that Glorfindel had never experienced.

Eventually, Erestor quieted and opened his eyes to search for Glorfindel. He looked terribly puzzled as to why the warrior was on the floor instead of on top of him. Glorfindel brushed a few wayward tresses away from Erestor’s face. “I nearly took this too far, my beautiful one. We have but a few months left before we can consummate this union-”

Erestor shook his head violently, his eyes darkening and pupils dilating. “I need you,” he whimpered. Despite his climax, his body and soul still called for Glorfindel’s. “Please, my love. I need you so badly…”

Glorfindel closed his eyes to better steel himself against Erestor’s pleas. It was difficult to be calm and collected when his vision was filled with the debauched elf in front of him. “I would be risking much by deflowering you before your majority. Our relationship is barely tolerated as it is. By taking you too soon, the populace would think that I am some kind of perverted monster and take you from me to protect you.” The warrior opened his eyes and leaned down to kiss Erestor softly. “Many do not approve of me courting you. I do not wish to lose you because I could not control my baser urges. You know this, my love. Please do not tempt me further,” he begged.

Erestor shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs of need. “I’m sorry, Glorfindel. I didn’t mean…I just…need so badly to be a part of you.”

“I know, little one. Truly I do.” Glorfindel helped Erestor to sit up and straighten his clothes. Erestor could not help but notice the obvious bulge outlined by Glorfindel’s leggings, and he stayed Glorfindel’s hands by gently taking them in his own.

“What about you?” asked the darkling. “I cannot leave you in your need…”

Glorfindel shook his head negatively. “I will not ask that of you. I will take care of it as I always have, by myself.”

The young elf’s eyes became wide. “Can I watch?” he breathed.

Glorfindel grinned wickedly, but still shook his head in the negative. “I do not think my already reduced control would be able to handle that.” He stood, leaving Erestor bereft upon the couch. “I will be back as soon as I have…dealt with this.” He squeezed Erestor’s hand gently once, and then took himself to his bedroom and closed the door behind him.

Erestor couldn’t help himself, his need and burning need to have more brought him just outside the door. Slowly, he leaned to press his delicately pointed ear to the wood. The young scribe grimaced slightly as the mess in his leggings made itself known, but he ignored it for the time being. He listened intensely, his Elven hearing picking up on the movements behind the door clearly.

The rustle of cloths being dropped. Silence. A soft, almost indecipherable moan. Silence again. The increasing volume of the sound of flesh on flesh. More soft moans increasing in intensity and sounding like a combination of agony and pleasure. Harsh panting. An open mouthed wail, quickly stifled.

Erestor leaned back, his cheeks flushed and his arousal once again raging. His breathing came in quick gasps as he imagined what the warrior would look like in his passion. What he would look like pleasuring himself. The most erotic part of was the knowledge that Glorfindel was pleasuring himself to thoughts of Erestor and no other.

The young elf stumbled to sit on the couch. He opened his soiled leggings, and while he was dealing with his unruly libido, Glorfindel entered the living area from the bedroom. The blond warrior stopped, dumbfounded, at the terribly erotic scene of his beautiful little love pleasuring himself. The darkling was gorgeous, flushed in passion, his slender hand frantically cupping his…Glorfindel turned away before he could do something irreversible.

Erestor looked up at the sound of the door closing, not realizing it had been opened. He laughed low and sultry for a moment before closing his eyes and working himself harder. In his mind, he pictured what Glorfindel was probably doing again behind that door and let himself fall into oblivion.

TBC…