Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

Mine	By : IdrilsSecret Category: +Third Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 3170 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or places of Lord of the Rings/Tolkien. No money is being made. This is for personal enjoyment only.

Chapter List
- 2
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Chapter 3 Ants Go Marching On

Erestor hated to have his feet covered, and remembered kicking the silken sheet from them as he slept. He awoke to the feeling of fire heating the top of one foot, and looked down to see a sunbeam illuminating the end of the soft feather bed. That would explain the warmth on his foot. The comfortable warmness at his side was Glorfindel, stretched out long and sleek next to him. Erestor dared a glance at the snoozing ellon, lying on his stomach, arms neatly tucked beneath his head, and his blond locks flowing over his pillow like strands of the finest gold. The elf lord’s ivory skin seemed to hold its climactic glow, as if they had just finished making love.
Erestor took a deep breath to welcome the new day. The air in the room smelled of rosemary oil and cedarwood, along with the natural aura of the night’s activities. The counselor burned it to memory. Being with Glorfindel heightened all of his senses. No matter where they were or what they were doing, Erestor always felt truly alive with him.
He pulled back the sheet from his body and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, careful not to wake his lover. Erestor stood and walked to the chair, where he had found his clothes. The last he saw of them, they laid in a crumpled heap on the floor next to the bed. Glorfindel must have moved them so they would not wrinkle. It was those little appreciations that made Erestor’s heart sing. He would have to remember to repay the thoughtfulness somehow.
They had left the window open last night, and the room felt cool. The briskness of the air was more noticeable against his naked body, still warm from the trapped heat beneath the sheets. Erestor reached for his trousers, and heard the slight rustle of fabric. He turned around, and found Glorfindel lying in the same position, eyes still closed, but wearing an amused smile.
“Like anything you see?” Erestor asked.
Glorfindel’s eyes opened, and Erestor felt his breath hitch as two blue gems, radiant as the sword’s sapphire, gazed upon him.
“Mmm,” Glorfindel murmured and stretched, “I like all of it, but I must say your arse is my favorite attribute. Shall I describe it to you?”
Erestor laughed, “I’m not sure that I want to know what my arse looks like first thing in the morning, but if you insist, you shall have to do it purely from memory. I must be going. The day awaits my presence.”
Glorfindel rolled onto his side and sat up on his elbow, the sheet falling away to reveal exactly how much he had enjoyed watching Erestor stroll naked across his room, “I think you have earned a day off from your hectic schedule.” His hand playfully patted the mattress, inviting Erestor back to the warmth and comfort of silky bliss.
Erestor felt himself pulse and throb to life. Luckily, he held his trousers in his hands, somewhat concealed from Glorfindel’s covetous stare. He felt himself swoon and regained his control, “You make quite a tempting offer.”
“I’ll send word to Elrond if you would like,” Glorfindel offered to enhance the bargain, “Besides, you work too much.”
Erestor raised a brow in challenge, “Compared to you … yes. But then, I guess you have earned the right to procrastinate.”
“It is really quite freeing, Erestor. You should try it sometime,” Glorfindel answered in a low and seductive voice.
“If memory serves me correctly, wasn’t it you who whisked me away into the wilds on a … hunting trip … and is now the reason you claim that I … work too much?” Erestor retorted playfully.
I really should be on my way, Erestor thought to himself. There would be much to do to prepare for the Gathering that the staff members discussed yesterday. But he is just so irresistible, he said finishing his thought. Erestor watched as Glorfindel curled his finger enticingly, calling him over. Erestor gave in easily, “I do not need you making excuses for my absence. I’ll send word to my assistant. He can inform Elrond, should he ask of my whereabouts,” he said firmly, and then dropped his pants back onto the chair, “Not just yet, though. It is still early.” Erestor made his way back to the bed.
“After the kiss we shared in front of the council yesterday, I think Elrond will understand your reasons,” Glorfindel reminded him.
The elf lord held the sheet open as Erestor climbed back into bed. Then he covered them both and began ravishing the counselor’s body with demanding kisses. They whispered words of promise, and caressed each other until they had manipulated mind, body and spirit. Erestor noted how well Glorfindel knew the male body, and how quickly the warrior had him thrumming with need.
Glorfindel must have noticed too. He threw the sheet from their heads, his gilded hair a wild mess. He got onto his hands and knees, stretching for the side table as he hovered above Erestor, “What shall it be, the rosemary oil or the lavender?”
“Not the lavender or I’ll never get out of your bed,” Erestor said.
Glorfindel made a huffed laugh through his nose, “Lavender it is then.”
“You are simply wicked this morning, aren’t you?” Erestor smacked Glorfindel’s bottom as it stuck up in the air while he reached for the oil.
Glorfindel looked over his shoulder, “Do that again, and you’ll find out just how wicked I can be.”
Erestor cocked an eyebrow, “Tempting as that sounds, I really cannot stay too long.” He paused and watched Glorfindel as he came back and knelt between his legs, “Though long enough to enjoy this pleasant morning with you, my love.”
Glorfindel smiled victoriously, and prepared himself, as well as Erestor, with the rosemary oil, “I should pray that morning never ends then.” Fin threw the sheet back over them, tenting their bodies beneath the covers, “Mine,” he whispered possessively in that well-known feral voice that instantly set Erestor on fire.
* * *
Erestor finally managed to pull himself away from Glorfindel’s bed long enough to send a message to Lastar, stating that he was off to a late start this morning, and that he should begin organizing the lists from the previous meeting. Then he fetched a servant to bring some tea and a bit of breakfast.
Glorfindel was still sprawled on the bed like a luxurious cat warming in the sun. Erestor thought of drawing the curtains, but stopped when he observed how radiant his lover looked in the filtered light. Instead, he went to a set of double doors, opened them, and stepped out onto the leaf littered balcony. The tree that shaded part of it was in the process of losing its leaves and the floor was colored with shades of yellow and orange. Glorfindel’s home looked out over the valley below. The land was transforming to that colorful time when the trees looked as though they had burst into flames. It was quite a spectacular show this year. Erestor couldn’t remember the colors being so vibrant. Had they always looked this way? Maybe Glorfindel was right … he did work too much.
There was a knock at the door, and Erestor went quickly so that Glorfindel was not disturbed. The servant came back with the tea, some fruit and biscuits, and assured the counselor that his message to Lastar had been sent, received, and answered simply with, ‘All is well. Enjoy your morning.’
That was exactly what Erestor was doing. He hadn’t felt like putting all of his clothes back on, and instead, dressed in his russet brown trousers and white undershirt, deciding not to button it up.
The morning air was crisp, but the sun was warm. Erestor took the tea tray, and went out on the balcony, where he had a seat on a simple but elegantly curved, red velvet chaise. He poured a cup of tea and lay against the back, letting his shirt fall open so that the sun could warm his skin. His long black hair spilled over the end of the chaise as he tilted his head back, and absorbed all of the luxuries of morning.
“Now here is a sight I will never tire of,” Glorfindel said from the doorway. He was leaning against the white doorframe, wearing a pair of loose fitting black cotton pants, tied about the waist with a belt made of red satin … nothing more.
Erestor forgot to breathe as his vision washed over the glowing apparition before him. He wanted to throw the elf lord onto the chaise and have his way with him, but instead smiled and held up his cup, “Tea?”
Glorfindel nodded sat on the sofa, while Erestor prepared a steaming cup, “That smells wonderful,” said Glorfindel.
“It is one of my favorites, made with apples and orchids, appropriate for the season,” Erestor replied and handed Glorfindel the cup.
They sat and sipped silently, allowing their senses time to enjoy the scents and flavors. But there was a pressing matter that Erestor wished to discuss, and he wasn’t sure how to go about it. He would start with a simple question, “The hobbit … will he recover from the poison?”
Glorfindel ran his hand through his hair and breathed deep, “Erestor, it is time you knew what happened. I could not tell the entire story, for Lord Elrond asked that it not all be revealed and cause a panic. Frodo was injured, but not by poison. It was a Morgul blade.”
Erestor sat up and slowly set his cup onto the silver tray, “A Nazgûl?”
“The Witch King himself inflicted the wound. The tip had broken off, and was threatening to travel deeper into the hobbit’s body. By the time I found Estel and the others, Frodo was very close to becoming like them, undead.
Elrond knew about the Wraiths, knew Estel was being followed. That is why he sent me out to find the traveling party. I do not fear the black riders, and they will flee from me. It’s not the first time that I have had dealings with the Black Captain. It was not just Frodo that I was protecting. The hobbit also carried the weapon of the enemy. Had it gotten into the hands of the Nazgûl, we would not be sitting here enjoying this fine morning.”
“It is the One Ring, isn’t it?” Erestor asked.
“Yes, and the reason Elrond has called for this council of all the free peoples. It must be decided what to do with it.”
Erestor looked at Glorfindel, “And what do you think should happen to the ring?”
“There is no other choice but to destroy it,” Glorfindel answered. He moved forward to the edge of his seat, and rested his elbows on his knees, clasped his hands together, and looked at the floor, “I was sent to Middle-earth just after the Rings of Power were forged. I saw some of them … the three for the elves, seven for the dwarves, nine for men. The one I never laid eyes on was the one made by Sauron. Soon, all of the rings went from sight, once they learned of Sauron’s plans. Some were never seen again, as you well know, but to think that the One is here within our city … well, I cannot deny the fact that I would very much like to see it.”
Erestor looked at Glorfindel curiously, “I’d rather you didn’t. There’s something to be said about rings of power and magic.”
Glorfindel set his cup on the tray, stood from the chaise, and walked to the iron railing of the balcony. He placed his hands upon it, and seemed to rest on his palms, as he looked out over the valley. Erestor watched him, seeing his spine straighten sharply as Glorfindel’s body tensed. He was in deep thought, and Erestor knew it had something to do with the enemy.
The morning was warming up, and a breeze began to play with Glorfindel’s hair, lifting it up and off his shoulders, exposing the taut muscles there and along the collar of his neck. The sculpted body of a swordsman, Erestor thought. All of his strength lay in his upper body. What a sight it must have been to see Glorfindel in battle with raised sword, and fierce face set upon killing. Would he take up his sword yet again? Erestor wondered as he watched the warrior contemplate the future.
Suddenly, Erestor felt his skin prickle, and a finger of coldness ran up his spine. Glorfindel said the ring should be destroyed, but how … and by whom? That was the meaning of the Gathering of the free peoples … to decide who would carry out this deed.
“You mean to this yourself, don’t you,” Erestor said, though his voice was a bit accusatory, “to destroy the ring?”
“I will make no suggestions until everyone has had their say in the matter,” Glorfindel answered, his back still turned to the counselor, “But I cannot help but feel the responsibility of it.”
“And why should the burden be put upon you?” Erestor asked angrily.
“For reasons I don’t know, I suppose,” the elf lord answered coolly, “In the hope of finding out why I am here to start with.”
“I don’t understand.” Erestor said softly.
Glorfindel turned his head to the side, casting his words over his shoulder, “It is nothing.”
As he spoke, Erestor had the distinct feeling that the tree branch overhanging the balcony was casting more than mere shade, as if a formidable shadow was looming over the elf lord. He convinced himself that it was just his imagination, and let the feeling dissolve from his mind.
* * *
A few weeks had passed, and the first of the visitors had arrived, a group of wood elves. Among them was none other than the Elven King’s son, Prince Legolas of Mirkwood. Erestor was surprised to see King Thranduil had sent his only heir to Rivendell, and not his close advisors instead. Thranduil was known to be overly protective of his family. Perhaps this was some sort of test for the young Prince. He had come with three other wood elves, guards from the looks of it, to protect his only son.
Erestor had approached Prince Legolas upon his arrival to welcome him to Imladris, and introduce him to his own personal staff that would provide him and his company with anything they needed. The Prince seemed uncomfortable with the idea of attendants who would wait on him and his men, and Erestor explained that all of the visitors would have the same treatment. It was custom in Rivendell to see to every need of its guests, and to make them feel as welcome as possible.
“We do not mean to be difficult,” Legolas said to Erestor, “But when visiting other realms, we would abide by their laws and traditions rather than have them cater to us.”
Erestor had not had personal dealings with many wood elves, but he had heard of their stubbornness. Some said that it was more to do with their lack of sophistication, or that they were not as refined as other communities of elves. Wood elves were a different race than those of Rivendell, and it was easy to come to that conclusion. However, since becoming involved with Glorfindel, Erestor understood that it just might be that wood elves merely lived more wild than those of Imladris. Glorfindel had that same sense of abandon, and had recently helped Erestor reacquaint himself with the feeling of latitude. The wood elves lived such lifestyle naturally. Erestor had sensed it right away. They dressed much simpler. Their weapons were a bit more primitive. Even their aura was different, as if they had been in the forest so long that they smelled of leaves, bark and fresh turned earth. This gave Erestor a sense of longing to be amongst the wild again. Perhaps he should ask Glorfindel to take him hunting again, after all of this business about the Gathering was through … if Fin was still here and not off risking his life again.
It was still a worry of Erestor’s, to think that Glorfindel might feel the need to go off on one of his journeys again. Whether he was asked to go or not, Erestor knew he couldn’t leave Rivendell. Fin would have to go alone, and that might be alright for him. The elf lord was used to solitude. Since letting Glorfindel into his heart, though, Erestor was not sure he could manage without his lover. It was ridiculous, of course, he told himself. He had been just fine before Glorfindel. Surely, he would be alright on his own again, and it was only temporary. Fin would come back. He would.
Erestor was sitting at his desk when these thoughts struck him. He had parchments and his inkpot in front of him, a stack of books to his left, an open book and a map to his right, and strewn about in whatever space left were a dozen carefully rolled scrolls. He had been busy translating letters sent from the dwarves, requesting certain items of importance that they required before they would—as stated in their letter—step foot on elvish ground. Most of the items pertained to food—salt pork and ale seemed to be a main staple—but they also requested certain living arrangements for their stay. Erestor was not sure if they required some of these things for mere comfort, or just to be burdensome to the elves who had to acquire them.
The Dwarves did not care much for elves, but they considered Lord Elrond and his home to be neutral ground. The counselor wondered what their reaction would be when they discovered that there were wood elves amongst the members of the Gathering. Longtime rivals, these two races had not had any dealings with each other in many years. Thankfully, it was not King Thranduil who decided to host the meeting, Erestor laughed to himself.
The sound of voices and hearty laughs wafted up through the open window. Erestor new one voice very distinctly … Glorfindel. He hadn’t seen him all day and to hear him now lifted his spirits. Erestor went to the window and looked out. Down below in a courtyard, Glorfindel was walking along with the two guards that arrived with Prince Legolas. Erestor noted how much different they looked from the Prince. Where Legolas was tall and lithe, his guards were broad and well-toned through the chest and arms, dressed similarly to Glorfindel, leggings and tunic with swords at their sides. Warriors, Erestor thought to himself. Somehow they always found each other in any circumstance, like some brotherhood of brawn.
He was suddenly reminded of an ant colony he had observed as a youth. The worker ants were small and fast, always on the move, and getting their job done in an orderly fashion. They never seemed to worry about enemies disrupting them because they were well protected by the soldier ants, twice the size of the workers, with large heads and powerful jaws. The soldier ants were slow and usually unmoving, standing guard over the working colony, ready at a moment’s notice to attack and kill any threats. The worker ants never took notice of these loyal guardians. They just knew they were safe and did their job. The soldiers never interacted with the workers either, and silently stood by. But when another soldier came to relieve the other, they recognized each other right away, and seemed to become grateful to see another soldier after hours of watching the workers run to and fro. They would touch each other with legs and antennae, moving slow and careful with each other, and looking generally glad to be with one another.
Erestor’s attention came back to Glorfindel and the Mirkwood guards. They walked together in a group, laughing and smiling, patting each other’s shoulders, relaxed in each other’s company, and paying no attention to the other elves—servants for the most part—walking quickly to whatever destination they were expected.
“Can I be of any help?” said a soft voice.
Erestor was startled to see his assistant peeking through the partly open door, “Ah, Lastar, come in,” he called.
Lastar gracefully floated into the room, and came to join Erestor at the window. He looked down to see what the counselor was looking at, “I see what has drawn your attention,” Lastar commented as he saw Glorfindel below. Erestor remained silent, but smiled to himself. Lastar watched a moment, then spoke, “You are very fortunate to have captured the attention of one so great.”
“I am not sure how much fortune had to do with it,” Erestor replied, feeling a little uneasy talking to Lastar about his relationship. A while back, Lastar had been smitten with him, and was about to reveal his feelings when Glorfindel interrupted. Erestor had always felt like there was unfinished business with Lastar, but he’d never brought it up.
It seemed he wouldn’t have to, as Lastar continued, “I never properly apologized for my behavior that day in the library. I should never have—”
“You did not know about Glorfindel and I. No one did at that point. There is nothing to apologize for,” Erestor said kindly.
Lastar blushed and looked to the ground, “I must admit I was frightened to come back to the libraries after that. I thought for sure you were going to reassign me somewhere else.” He gave a nervous laugh.
“Well, we have all had our moment of befuddlement from time to time. It’s happened to me more than I would care to admit.”
Lastar smiled and glanced at Erestor from the corner of his eye, “Thank you for understanding.”
“Besides,” Erestor said a little louder to erase the tension between them, “I could not have sent you away. You are a great asset to me, Lastar. To be certain, you make my job much easier, and I am grateful.”
Just then, the three warriors below stopped as Prince Legolas approached them. Erestor took the moment to observe the guards more closely. One had sable brown hair and the other’s was almost a match to Glorfindel’s golden locks. Both Mirkwood elves wore their hair plaited at the sides so that the braid ran from their temples and down behind their ears. Warrior’s braids, Erestor thought. Most soldier elves kept their hair tied in this fashion. Glorfindel had been the only one he knew that let his hair hang loose.
The blond guard went off with Legolas towards the direction of Elrond’s quarters. Glorfindel and the brown haired warrior spoke a moment, smiled and laughed, then Glorfindel grasped the guard’s upper arm, ushering him along towards the practice grounds at the opposite end of the courtyard. The guard raised his arm, his hand coming to rest between Glorfindel’s shoulder blades. It had only been a gesture of friendship, but Erestor couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealously to see another elf’s hand on his lover. He knew it was ridiculous to feel this way, and had never experienced a response like it before, but he could not help stiffening his spine at the sight below.
“It looks like the Mirkwood elves are making themselves at home,” Lastar commented.
Perhaps a little too comfortably, Erestor thought inwardly, as he watched Glorfindel and the Mirkwood warrior draw their weapons and begin swordplay.
Lastar blew a short laugh through his nose, “Warriors … they always manage to find each other don’t they?”
“Just like the ants,” Erestor muttered under his breath.
“Pardon?” Lastar said when he didn’t understand.
“Oh, nothing,” Erestor said, forcing a smile and turning from the window, “So you said you came to help?”
“Of course, what would you like me to do?” Lastar said enthusiastically.
Erestor led him to the desk and pulled up an extra chair, “Are you familiar with Khuzdul?”
* * *
A few hours later, almost all of the letters had been translated, and the elvish scrolls placed in their proper places, ready to be delivered to their destinations. The kitchen staff needed to know what foods to prepare, and the maidservants needed to know about housing for the dwarves. There were a few other details to look into, but everything was organized now. It was just a matter of delivering the scrolls to the proper staff members.
“I’m not sure if they require goose grease for their beards or for their bread,” Lastar remarked, as he tried to translate the last letter.
“Just add it to the list for the kitchens and let the dwarves sort it out,” Erestor laughed.
Lastar let the parchment slip from his fingers, and set his quill down next to it, “Khuzdul is difficult on the eyes,” he said blinking and stood. He stretched his long body, and walked to a shelf, picking up a decanter of wine and two glasses. Lastar brought them back to Erestor’s desk and poured them each a glass. Then he collapsed back into his chair. They sipped silently for a while, resting their aching wrists.
“Who would have ever thought the life of a scribe could be so tiring,” Lastar stated.
“I just thank Aulë that dwarves rarely visit Imladris,” Erestor chuckled. The wine was warm going down and now it warmed his belly, making him sink into his chair and melt into the cushions. He lifted his feet, and rested them on the arm of Lastar’s chair.
Seeing his glass almost empty, Lastar reached for the decanter and refilled Erestor’s goblet, “This is a very good vintage. It works quickly through the system.”
Erestor nodded, “Dorwinion, a gift from Prince Legolas … his father’s private stock.”
“There’s one thing to be said about Mirkwood elves, they know their wine,” Lastar said, raising his glass and watching the deep burgundy color swirl around the sides, “And they have exceptional looking soldiers. Do you think all of Mirkwood’s army looks as robust as those guards?”
“Hmph, I hadn’t noticed,” Erestor replied nonchalantly.
Lastar sat up and leaned towards Erestor. “Did you not take notice of those generous shoulders, or those exquisitely taut backsides?”
Actually, he hadn’t. Erestor was too busy fuming over the guards hand resting upon Glorfindel’s back. Lastar noticed the begrudging look in Erestor’s eye, “I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?”
Erestor shook his thoughts, “No, quite alright. I just didn’t look at them in that way.”
“Well, I guess you have no need to, not with Glorfindel as a partner,” Lastar commented. Erestor’s look did not soften. “You … oh, you are not worried about him and the guard, are you?”
Erestor hadn’t known he was so easy to read. He smiled, “Of course not.”
Lastar moved his chair so that it faced Erestor’s. They sat with their knees almost touching, “I am quite sure you have nothing to worry about. Glorfindel seems to adore you. I’m not the only one to notice. Many elves say that of all his lovers, you seem to be the only one to have tamed him. He’s never been in Rivendell for such a long period of time.”
Erestor knew Lastar was only trying to help, but he was bringing up some of the very things that worried the counselor. His mind flitted quickly back to the thought of ants. What would happen if a soldier ant coalesced with a worker? There must be some reason he had never seen them as a pair.
“Do you think there is some truth to what you said earlier, about warriors always seeking each other out?” Erestor asked. The wine was indeed making him quite brave to be talking about his love life with his apprentice.
“Well, yes … but I meant as having something in common amongst them, you know … war and weapons and such.” Lastar watched the distant look on Erestor’s face, and laid his hand on the counselor’s knee, “I may be out of place to ask this, but … has … has something happened to make you think Glorfindel has sought comfort elsewhere?”
Erestor’s head shot up and his eyes widened, “No … no, of course not. That is not what I was— No I was just thinking about—”
Lastar’s hand squeezed Erestor’s leg, “I would hate to think he could hurt you.”
“It is nothing like that, Lastar,” Erestor answered quickly. Then he smiled forcedly, “It’s just this damn Dorwinion wine putting thoughts into my head that have no reason to be there. Glorfindel and I are fine.”
Lastar studied Erestor a moment, and then he patted the counselor’s knee, “I am glad for that. I really am, but should you ever need someone to talk to … I know I am just a lowly assistant, but—”
“You are not a lowly assistant. Don’t ever refer to yourself as such,” Erestor corrected.
Lastar removed his hand slowly from Erestor’s knee, the tips of his fingers lingering before lifting. Then he stood from his chair, “Well, it is late and I am famished. Care to join me for a bite to eat?”
“I think I’ll just finish this last translation, and head off to bed,” Erestor answered.
Lastar bowed politely, and reached for the doorknob. He stopped and looked back at Erestor, “Good evening, Lord Erestor, and do take heed of that Dorwinion,” he smiled.
Erestor chuckled to himself, “Good night, Lastar, and thank you for your help.”
* * *
Erestor finished the last scroll, rolled it up, and added it to the others. He leaned back in his chair and breathed deep, releasing it slowly, “And where are you this evening, Glorfindel,” he said to himself.
As a matter of fact, he hadn’t seen the elf lord all day, except when he spied him from the window in the company of the Mirkwood soldiers. Perhaps Glorfindel decided to entertain the visiting elves for the whole day.
“But it is well past sunset,” Erestor argued with himself. It had been a very trying day, and he longed for the company of his lover. The Mirkwood elves had had him all day.
“Well, if they had any of that Dorwinion wine with them, they are probably all half-crocked by now,” he said with a laugh. The vision of three mighty warriors sitting around, enjoying the effects of the strong wine played on Erestor’s mind. Then he suddenly envisioned the dark haired guard’s arm casually draped over Glorfindel’s shoulders, slipping down until his hand was on the small of Fin’s back.
Erestor shook his head, “No, he would not.” He truly believed that, but some dark malicious place in the back of his brain implanted the thought, and now it was slowly growing.
Lastar’s words came back ringing loudly, ‘Warriors … they always manage to find each other, don’t they?’
“Nonsense,” Erestor said as if to answer an invisible Lastar. He needed to get out of his office, he decided. The wine had warmed him and left him a bit light headed, but he could manage a walk in the night air. He would check the Hall of Fire, and see if Glorfindel and the others were there while he was at it.
Erestor made his way to the great meeting hall, nodding politely to passing elves, what few there were. It seemed to be a particularly quiet evening, but then, everyone had been busy completing final details as they awaited the coming of their guests.
He entered the Hall of Fire, and found it to be empty, not a soul was around, “Perhaps they are at the dining hall,” Erestor said to himself and turned to leave, but a noise from the end of the Hall caught his attention, a slight whimper. He strained his ear and listened … nothing.
“Perhaps it’s just an owl or—” He paused when he heard it again, very faint somewhere at the other end of the Hall. He couldn’t see anyone, and there was nothing down that way except the large hearth and—
“A storage closet,” he said aloud, finishing his thought.
Erestor stood still as a stone, barely breathing, as he listened. Sure enough, another whimper sounded, “That is no owl.” It wasn’t someone crying either. It was the whimper of pleasure, someone lost to the throws of passion.
“Well, I don’t know who it is, but it’s not Glorfindel. He does not make those kinds of noises,” he confirmed. But then, Glorfindel did not make any noise, besides the quiet whispering words of encouragement as he carefully brought Erestor to the height of ecstasy, and whoever was making those noises was well on their way to the finale.
“What am I saying? Why would I ever think Glorfindel would do such a thing?” he argued, but a memory came to him, something he had not thought of in a while. It happened at an inn somewhere along the way during a hunting trip, and before they admitted their feelings for each other. Glorfindel and Erestor had spent the evening there, and Fin had quickly found someone to keep him company while Erestor found his own satisfaction in the company of a barmaid. Glorfindel had been in the adjacent room. The whimpers and pleas that came through the wall had not been Glorfindel’s then either. Fin was a quiet lover, keeping his voice low so that only his partner could hear.
Curiosity got the better of Erestor, and the wine in his system helped his bravery. He slowly made his way down the Hall, looking behind to see if anyone had entered. No one had. All remained quiet, except for the moans coming from the storage room. Still only one voice was making all the noise.
Erestor finally reached the room, off to one side in a corner at the back of the Hall. He had never paid it much attention before. It was a storage room where the maids went for extra linens and the like, and perhaps a comfortable hideaway for a liaison. He listened for a name, but no words were being formed, only groans and heavy breathing, and only one voice.
Someone in there was being coaxed into a euphoric frenzy, and whoever was responsible was doing it quite aggressively, from the sound of skin slapping skin. Erestor knew what position they were in, for he often found himself like that with Glorfindel … lying on his back with the elf lord slamming into him. Erestor recognized the same familiar sounds, and could just imagine himself in that closet.
“But it couldn’t be Fin in there. He wouldn’t … would he?” Erestor whispered.
‘. . .of all his lovers . . .’
Lastar’s words came back to haunt him. Perhaps Glorfindel knew the Mirkwood guards, and had had an affair with one of them during his travels … a past lover … someone he could not sexually resist no matter how much he had said he loved Erestor. And if he were seduced with the Dorwinion and—
Unable to contain himself any longer, Erestor put his hand on the handle of the door. His heart was beating out of his chest. His palms were sweating, and he felt an uneasy shiver run down his spine. What would he do upon finding Glorfindel with another? Perhaps he should not do this and confront Fin later.
“An ngell nîn, tolo ar nin!” the recipient begged in Sindarin. For my joy, come with me.
That was enough for Erestor. There was only one way to know for sure just how welcomed Glorfindel was making the Mirkwood elves. He carefully opened the door a crack, and peeked inside. It was very dark, but there was just enough light from a lantern for him to make out two shapes. Just as he thought, the dark haired guard was on his back, legs in the air and his long hair draped down a pile of sacks. He was clawing at the back of someone hovering over him, taut arse pumping quick and hard, golden hair spilling down his back, silently pounding his lover.
All at once, Erestor’s heart sank to his stomach. Then a sharp pain grew in his belly, and he felt the wine begin to rise, but he subdued the urge to vomit. Anger replaced the feeling of lost love. He felt his body tense, and his fists clenched until his fingernails cut into his palms.
The golden haired elf leaned forward and stilled himself, buried deep within the other. The dark haired elf gave a strangled cry of ecstasy, and spilled himself between their bodies. They both seemed practiced in containing themselves for the sake of secrecy.
Erestor was livid, and threw the door wide open, making it smash into the wall. The naked elves were startled. The dark haired guard gasped. The gilded one pulled from his lover and covered himself with his shirt that was nearby. Erestor was about to yell obscenities, but stopped when he saw the unfamiliar face. The blond elf was not Glorfindel.
Erestor’s mind reached for a hidden memory of the three warriors walking to the practice field, and recalling how much Fin and the blond guard resembled each other, at least from behind. Shock turned him to stone, and he could not speak or move as he watched the two Mirkwood guards fumble around for clothes or linens, anything that would cover up their modesty.
By now, the dark haired guard was on his feet, his uniform vest held tight against his nakedness. He was begging for mercy in his Sindarin tongue, “Please, my lord, do not tell the Prince you found us like this. It is … it is forbidden for royal guards to be involved.”
“I … I was … uh—” Erestor was at a loss for words, “Was looking for something … uh … and heard voices.”
The blond guard turned to look at his partner, giving him a stern glare, “Did I not say you were too loud?” He looked back at Erestor again with a steely regard. He seemed to be the only one not completely thrown by the situation, and in control of his emotions, “Will you speak to Prince Legolas about this or not?”
Of course, Erestor would not say anything. This was not a matter for him. Still, something about the blond guard’s tone told him that if Erestor should disagree, he may not live long enough to find Prince Legolas, and inform him of the tryst going on behind his back. Erestor forced a smile and reached for the doorknob, “Not a word. It is none of my business.”
“Thank you Lord Erestor,” called the dark haired guard as he fumbled to put his pants on.
With nothing else to say, Erestor calmly closed the door and took a step back, only to find himself bumping into the solid form of a warm body. He jumped and gasped as he spun around, “Glorfindel!”
The elf lord creased his brows, and looked over Erestor’s shoulder to the door of the storage room, “Erestor, what are you doing here?”
“I was looking for you,” he replied flustered.
“You were looking for me in there?” Glorfindel pointed.
“Never mind, let’s just be on our way and I’ll explain,” Erestor said urgently as he wrapped his arm around Glorfindel to lead him from the Hall of Fire, but the elf lord was as stationary as a marble column.
“I think you will explain now,” Glorfindel insisted.
“You see, I was searching the hall, thinking that you might have gathered some company, come to hear you tell your stories, but found the place empty,” Erestor paused and smiled, “And here you are, so let’s go then.”
Glorfindel released himself from Erestor’s hold and faced him, “You skipped the part about the closet,” he said dryly.
Erestor mentally felt himself slump, but physically stood tall, with shoulders back and head held high, “I thought I heard something … a voice … and I came to see what it was.”
Glorfindel’s eyes narrowed, “And what did you find?”
Erestor hated when Glorfindel was like this, insistent upon making him say everything aloud, “Well, I found … I found the closet to be … occupied.”
Glorfindel crossed his arms over his chest, standing with his feet apart about shoulder width, “And you opened the door to see who was inside?”
Erestor nodded.
“You must have had good reason, Erestor. Who exactly did you think was inside?” Glorfindel said, continuing his inquisition.
Just then, the closet door opened, and out came the two Mirkwood guards, fully dressed, though their hair was a bit disheveled, and the dark haired elf’s face was still flushed from the recent lovemaking. Erestor decided to remain with his back facing the closet door. He’d already seen enough.
The guards paused and regarded Glorfindel with a slight nod, in which Glorfindel answered the same. Then the blond elf spoke, “I hope we have not caused any trouble.”
“All is well,” answered Glorfindel.
The blond warrior glanced at Erestor, then back to Glorfindel, “And he will not—”
“Not a word,” Glorfindel interrupted.
The two guards nodded in agreement, or maybe thanks, and exited the Hall of Fire. Erestor waited until they were gone before he spoke, something finally dawning on him, “You knew about … them?”
Glorfindel gave a crooked half smile, “Who do you think told them about the storeroom?” The smile disappeared, and he took a step towards Erestor, “So tell me, when you heard voices coming from the room, why did you go in? Why not just walk away? Who were you expecting to see?”
Erestor took a step backwards. Glorfindel’s tone was a bit threatening, and the counselor was sure Fin already knew the answer, “Will you not let this go?”
“No, I will not, Erestor, for I am assuming you thought I was in there.” Glorfindel accused.
“I don’t know what I was thinking,” Erestor said, taking another step backwards to counter Glorfindel’s step forward. They were now within the threshold of the doorway.
“But why? Why would you think to find me inside?” Glorfindel sounded hurt by the notion.
Erestor could not avoid this any longer and answered defensively, “I didn’t know what to think. You had been gone all day. Not once did you come by my office for a brief visit or just to say hello. And then I saw you with the guards, walking in the courtyard, laughing and enjoying each other’s company. And one of them put his hand on your back, and you did not shy away. Then Lastar and I were talking about the brotherhood of warriors, and how they are loyal to each other, whether they are Sindarin or Noldorin. And then the Dorwinion wine … and it was late, and my head was swimming with terrible thoughts.”
He hadn’t realized it, but as Erestor was making his confessions, Glorfindel had backed him into the storeroom, until the counselor’s heels bumped into the pile of sacks. He threw his hands out behind him to keep from falling backwards, and Glorfindel closed the distance to keep Erestor in this vulnerable position.
“You believed that I could be promiscuous?” Glorfindel asked.
“I didn’t want to believe it, no. But some part of me needed to see for myself, or forever wonder,” Erestor answered.
Glorfindel reached up and combed his fingers through Erestor’s straight black hair, “Tell me what you would have done had you found me in here.”
“I … I don’t know. I guess, first, I would have attacked whomever you were with. I would be so full of rage that I think I could murder him.”
“You, Erestor, have a wicked jealous streak. Do you know that?” Glorfindel said with that irresistible predatory smile.
“Actually, I didn’t know that until the thought of you mindlessly pounding another ellon entered my mind,” Erestor said honestly.
Glorfindel moved the hair from Erestor’s neck and leaned down, his lips brushing against supple skin, “I can’t say that anyone has ever exhibited jealousy over me before, and I must admit, Erestor, that I am feeling quite aroused by the thought.”
“Mmph,” Erestor answered, at a loss for words as Glorfindel seduced him.
Glorfindel’s eyes were dark with lust as they focused on Erestor once more, “I find that I am flattered, but at the same time, disappointed that you thought I would ever sleep with another. Have I not confessed my love for you? Does that not mean anything?”
“You have, and it does. I’m sorry, Glorfindel, but I suppose it is my love for you that drove me to such a jealous act. I still wonder why you have chosen me. Why not someone else? At the same time, I would fight to the death to keep you.”
Glorfindel unfastened the hook of Erestor’s surcoat, and pushed it from his shoulders, letting it fall and drape over the pile of sacks. Then the elf lord untied the sash about Erestor’s waist, and let it float to the floor.
Erestor stood in only his robe. His breath was becoming rapid as Glorfindel undressed him. This was not the response he expected, but much better than the argument that he had predicted would happen. Glorfindel pulled away from Erestor and sniffed the air, “It still smells of sex in here.” He unbuckled his belt and untied his laces, “And I think you deserve a proper punishment, Librarian. Turn around!” he demanded.
Erestor was more than willing to be punished for his jealous behavior, but something changed in Glorfindel’s tone, some hint of danger laced through his words. Erestor should deny him his request, but the excitement of this kind of role-play was keeping him from doing so. He turned around, his slippered toes resting against one of the sacks. Glorfindel contoured to his back, his hardened desire pressing against Erestor’s backside, and warm breath caressing the back of the counselor’s ear, “I’m going to fuck you, Erestor, and you will do only as I tell you to.”
Erestor felt Glorfindel back away, and heard the rustle of leggings being stripped away. Then he felt his robe being hiked up, exposing his naked arse, “Bend over and spread your arms out to the side.”
Erestor did as he was told, though he hesitated first. Then he leaned over the sacks, his head hanging over the other side. His arms draped over the ends, and he felt for something to grasp onto. The pungent musk of sex was suddenly replaced by the herbaceous scent of sage and lavender. Then a warm slippery hand was moving along and into the crevice of his buttocks, spreading oil, an invading finger tantalizing his entrance. Just as soon as it begun, it stopped. Erestor thought that maybe he should stop this game. Glorfindel’s touch was different, too demanding, too detached. It wasn’t his usual manner of care and tenderness. Still, Erestor wanted to push himself to Glorfindel’s limits. This was a side he’d never seen of the elf lord.
“Glorfindel—”
“Shush!” Glorfindel ordered, “You will not speak. You will not call out. You will remain silent, Counselor, not even a moan. This is your punishment, understand?” Glorfindel’s tone was dark and ominous.
Erestor nodded in agreement , but he was beginning to regret his decision to play. This version of Glorfindel frightened him a bit, though he knew he could stop it. Fin had told him once that he would never make Erestor do anything he didn’t want to do. Erestor wanted to continue, even though the atmosphere had changed. Glorfindel had changed, no longer a caring lover, but rather that lustful warrior after a battle, blinded by wanton abandonment, and needing nothing but the necessity of release. Erestor knew he should stop—this game seemed dangerous— but he had always wanted to know what it was like for a warrior.
Suddenly and without warning, he was being spread wide and stretched, his flesh torn and burning, and his body filled completely. He wanted to scream out in agony … no, in pleasure, but he couldn’t. He was forbidden to. Instead, he stopped breathing, and tried to suffer past the pain.
“Breathe, Erestor, it will make it better for both of us,” Glorfindel whispered.
He released the breath he had been holding, and took his punishment silently. It had been the most erotically agonizing experience of his life, an odd mix of rapture and humiliation. Once he was past the physical pain of being rammed mercilessly without warning, he discovered that it was the absence of tender touches and whispered words of admiration that was the true punishment. Glorfindel was cold towards him, using Erestor’s body for his own amusement. There was nothing he could do to stop it now. Glorfindel was taking what he wanted with no care for his lover. There was no love … this was nothing more than dispassionate fucking. But Erestor had been curious. Now he wished he’d never allowed Glorfindel to seduce him into the store room. He remained draped over the sacks, arms out to the side and legs spread while Glorfindel took his merely lifeless body.
When Glorfindel reached his climax and spilled himself, he made no sound, and Erestor realized that the punishment extended to his lover. Fin had taken what he wanted with no care for Erestor. Now, the elf lord’s shuddering breath revealed his regret in doing so. Erestor wondered if Glorfindel had done this before without guilt. Maybe he had, but Erestor felt the elf lord’s qualm for making someone suffer beneath his powerful hold.
Glorfindel released Erestor and moved away from him. Erestor suddenly felt a slight advantage over his lover. If Glorfindel had wanted to punish him, he would have to follow it through to the end. Erestor stayed lying on his stomach, displayed vulnerably across the storeroom sacks, awaiting further orders.
“You may stand,” Glorfindel said after a long silence.
Erestor pushed himself up, and slowly came to his full height, the skirt of his robe cascading back into place. He felt a bit dizzy from the blood that had rushed to his head, and put a hand out to steady himself. Glorfindel had turned away, and was retying the laces of his leggings, but, Erestor noticed, his hands fumbled unsteadily.
With his back still turned, Glorfindel shook his head, “I do not know what came over me. I was so angry at you for thinking I would stray, but so aroused to know that you cared enough to confront me if I did.”
“Did you not enjoy yourself then?” asked Erestor, his voice soft but hoarse, “Is this not what you wanted? Was your punishment not severe enough?” There was no emotion in his words as he spoke.
“It was meant to be a game,” Glorfindel responded, finally finished dressing, “But something overtook me and—”
Erestor’s feelings were a mixed bag of anger and regret—mostly anger though—and he turned to face Glorfindel, “You punished me for expressing an emotion that comes naturally to someone with doubts. Do you not find that unfair? I am still learning who you are, Glorfindel. I am going to have doubts from time to time. Will you treat me like this every time I question us … or you?”
Glorfindel was upon Erestor in one stride, his fingers pressing into the flesh of Erestor’s arms, “Tell me you did not want this. You know it would be a lie. You wanted this as much as I did.”
Erestor tore himself from Glorfindel’s grip, “I did want this. I wanted you. I wanted the warrior. I wanted to be ruled by you. But I did not want a savage.” He stopped to regain his composure, as he was almost to the point of yelling. Erestor bent his head to the side, avoiding his lover’s eyes, “There was no love in this act.” Erestor shook his head and closed his eyes in disgust, “How can separate your feelings so easily? How can you—” He wanted to go on, but the words escaped him.
Glorfindel moved towards Erestor, but the counselor backed away until he was up against the wall of the storage room. Again, he was cornered and half afraid of what Glorfindel would do next. When the elf lord’s face softened, Erestor relaxed a bit, but he was still wary. Glorfindel’s moods could switch from one extreme to the next within a heartbeat, and right now, Erestor was vulnerable.
“I’m sorry,” said Glorfindel softly, leaning in to kiss Erestor, but the counselor turned his face away. This did not stop the warrior from kissing him though. His lips caressed Erestor’s jaw, and then moved down along the length of his neck, “If you must know, I took no pleasure in it either.” He continued kissing Erestor down the front of his chest, which was still exposed where he had not tied his robes back.
“I want all of you when we make love, and I felt you were not there. It was too empty, and I missed your sweet face and your burning touch.” Glorfindel lowered himself to his knees and untied the sash at Erestor’s waist.
Erestor tugged at his robe, trying to keep himself covered. He was angry and hurt, both physically and mentally. Just a moment ago, Glorfindel had forced himself upon his person. Now, he was sweetly seducing him, the strong sense of adoration back again. Erestor’s mind was a mess of confusion, but his body knew exactly what it wanted. He didn’t want Glorfindel to see what his kisses were doing to him.
“Leave me be,” he said unconvincingly as he held his robe around his middle. Erestor could feel Glorfindel’s eyes upon him, looking up from his kneeling position on the floor, submitting and apologetic.
Glorfindel did not speak, nor did he leave Erestor alone, as he pulled the robe from the counselor’s grip, “I should be thanking you, not punishing you.”
Erestor closed his eyes and bit the inside of his cheek. He knew he should stop Glorfindel. He was angry at the elf lord, fury making his heart beat uncontrollably. He should push him away, refuse any apology, and end this … this awkward form of remorse.
“Glorfindel, please,” he said, trying to sound upset and unfeeling, but it came out in a hoarse whisper.
“I’m sorry for ever hurting you, Erestor,” Glorfindel said softly, his warm breath caressing Erestor’s hardened cock.
Erestor gave one more effort at refusing, “Please … you don’t … have to … do … this—” Again, words failed and he was unconvincing as Glorfindel ignored him. Erestor sucked in a deep breath through his clenched teeth, as Glorfindel began working his tongue in a circular motion.
Erestor reached out to push Glorfindel away, but found his hands grasping the back of the elf lord’s head. The more his mind resisted Fin, the more he body obeyed and soon he was surrendering to Glorfindel’s increasingly stimulating ministrations. At the last, the warrior took him deep into his mouth, and Erestor spilled while crying out in a choked whisper, “You bastard.”
Glorfindel released him, wiped his mouth, stood, and smiled, “I love you too, Erestor.”
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