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Twilight Tales - The Captain's Guerdon	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > General Views: 8528 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter III

Yavannië TA 1139

In calling attention to the attraction that simmered between them, Elladan effectively made it impossible for Glorfindel to ignore it, much less pretend that it did not exist. The fair-haired Elf noted with equal parts wonder and dismay that he had become more acutely aware of the older twin than ever before. His dulcet voice, his singular scent, his confident stride. Even the way he dressed for the day or the manner in which he bound his hair.

Worse, he could not forget the touch of his fingers upon his nape or the taste of his lips. Nor could he banish the mounting urge to know both touch and taste again. Not even in the depths of the nights when he sought relief in some eager withy body.

He had taken to bedding ellyn once more right after their encounter in the library. He did so in a deliberate effort to eliminate or at the very least reduce the yearning said encounter had stoked. To no avail of course. Not when the following day brought him into close contact with the very reason for his resumption of these affairs. For how could any other form however fair adequately replace the irreplaceable? He ceased all couplings thence and steeped himself in celibacy. Random rutting with random partners only compelled him to compare them with Elrond’s son and invariably find them wanting. Chastity did not ease the unrelenting need but it did not further whet it either.

…take what you desire. I will withhold nothing from you.

The words echoed repeatedly in the warrior’s head. A promise from one whose word was more binding than a compact signed in blood.

Glorfindel sighed and pushed himself away from the stout pillar against which he was leaning. He had taken a respite from the incessant talk and sometimes much too personal probing into his life. Really, some Elves did not know when enough was enough, he’d griped when he’d earlier escaped the clutches of a particularly ardent Elf of Gildor Inglorion’s acquaintance.

It was the brethren’s thousandth begetting day. Had the decision been left to them, neither twin would have chosen to mark it in any special manner. Elrond’s sons were by and large not given to elaborate celebrations of any sort. Nor did they favor large gatherings where half the guests did not quite know each other and the chances of spending time with loved or favored ones were severely limited.

But Elrond and Celebrían would not be gainsaid. They adored their children and took every opportunity to express their pride in their handsome progeny. Celebrating the twins’ first millennium was enough of an excuse to do so and invitations had gone out to the elven realms of the Golden Wood, Lindon and even reclusive Mirkwood. None had refused, not even Thranduil. One did not lightly turn down a request from the Lord of Rivendell.

They thronged the main hall of the Last Homely House this eve. Wine and ale flowed freely while servants went about with laden platters of the finest delicacies the kitchens could produce. In one thing the twins had prevailed. This was no stilted formal dinner where one had to observe protocol and be on one’s best behavior. Instead, everyone was free to move around as they wished, speak with whomever they desired or leave whenever they wearied of the festivities or company or both. It had the desired effect of ensuring that no one would be burdened for long by the attentions of the inevitable bores in their midst.

Glorfindel let his eyes sweep the great hall, absently taking note of who was still present and who had since slipped away for the night.

On one side of the hall, Círdan debated some matter of historical import with Erestor, their enthralled audience listening avidly to every cogent argument and riposte. Nearby, Lindir seemed to be in the midst of composing a new song with the aid of a beauteous warbler from Greenwood. Further on, Arwen mischievously set two would-be suitors from Mithlond against each other, aided and abetted by some Lórien gallants who knew better than to woo Elrond’s only daughter when she was in so perilous a mood. Galadriel watched her granddaughter indulgently while occasionally taking part in a slightly heated discussion between Celeborn and his kinsman Thranduil to whom he had not spoken in person since the close of the Second Age. Glorfindel guessed it was about the stronghold of Dol Guldur that was slowly poisoning the southern reaches of Mirkwood. Thranduil’s queen was nowhere in evidence and Glorfindel assumed she had retired for the night. No surprise there since she was heavy with child yet again. He could not recall seeing her when she was not breeding. Elrond had once remarked that Thranduil seemed bent on besting Fëanor’s seven-strong brood.

Glorfindel quietly made his way back into the thick of things, a practiced smile already curling his lips. Almost as soon as he made his reappearance, he was importuned by a bevy of hopeful admirers. Keeping his smile firmly in place, he entertained and fended off as the need arose. But almost of their own volition, his eyes roamed, seeking one figure above the rest.

He spotted Elrohir first where the younger twin held court, surrounded by besotted maids and males alike. Glorfindel’s smile warmed up considerably. He liked Elrohir. The younger warrior was forthright, outgoing and sure-aimed in more than his martial skills. With Elrohir, there was no fear of subterfuge unless he was undertaking some exercise in espionage. This was particularly true when it came to affairs of the heart regardless of their depth or duration.

If he desired someone, he did not conceal that desire for too long and certainly not from the one he desired. He was by no means guileless or unwary but neither was he one to bide his time overlong in the pursuit of what he wanted. When Elrohir sought something, he did nothing by halves and cared little for what others might think about him or his way of achieving his goal. But neither did he abide a lengthy, mayhap fruitless wait and would promptly abandon his prey in favor of someone more receptive. That this more oft than not precipitated capitulation on the part of the once sought-after Elf was not a surprising consequence of such tactics but Elrohir did not care to indulge in multiple trysts at any one given time and so there was always a scorned soul left in these tangled triangles’ wakes. But exceedingly rare was the Edhel who could resist the Elf-knight’s charms in the first place and therefore, thankfully, such woeful denouements were few and far in between.

In this Elladan was nothing like his brother. For all his forcefulness and occasional cocky demeanor when engaged in sport or battle, the older twin was in point of fact far more circumspect in his personal dealings. Less confident of his aim, he was inclined to hold his tongue and stay his hand. He was reserved without being shy, cautious but not timid, mindful of others’ opinions but not ruled by them. His patience was near boundless, his tolerance greater than most. He was the quieter, gentler twin and was sometimes mistaken for the younger by those who could not tell the brethren apart.

Yet, he could be as relentless and perversely stubborn as his brother when he set his mind to something. The main difference in their comportment was that Elrohir had few qualms about letting his desires be known though he seldom brooked interference. Elladan, on the other hand, kept his yearnings to himself and did not readily confide in anyone save for his twin. The objects of his desire were likely to find themselves bedded before he informed them of his prior need. When he did, it was apt to leave his conquest in a heady swoon that the older twin had deigned to admit it at all.

Glorfindel knew the feeling all too well. Elladan had all but blindsided him. It had been a maneuver worthy of the canniest generals in elven history. Where an earlier plainspoken declaration might have given the captain time and space to guard himself, this stealthy, protracted approach had rendered him not only virtually defenseless but also reluctantly yet inexorably open to Elladan’s smoldering overture.

Deftly disengaging himself from a persistent woodland Elf-lady, Glorfindel searched the hall for the older twin without truly being conscious of doing so. It had become second nature to him to look for Elladan as soon as he came to a place where the other was likely to be. When he caught himself doing this, he would chide himself for it. But of late, he had become less and less cognizant of this particular habit.

He frowned. The twin was not in the hall. There was no way he could have missed that tall, lissome figure equalled only by one other. The brethren towered above almost everyone else save for their grandparents and father and Glorfindel himself. He wondered where Elladan had taken himself. On the heels of this question came the thought that perhaps he had left with someone for the night to celebrate the occasion and what remained of the day in the privacy of a bedchamber.

Jealousy lanced through him unbidden and he found himself breathing as if winded from a long race. He tried to collect himself, aware that his cheeks felt warmer than usual. Striving to school his riotous emotions, he sought to distract himself with whatever entertainment was at hand. But in surveying the hall in search of that distraction, he looked once more in Elrohir’s direction and, as he did, the younger twin returned his gaze and their eyes met across the great space.

It dawned on him that the wily Elf-knight had been observing him for a spell. This was evident in the knowing grin Elrohir threw him. Glorfindel felt his cheeks grow even warmer. Elrohir’s grin gentled and, to Glorfindel’s astonishment, he gestured with an infinitesimal nod of his head toward the arched doors that opened onto the gardens behind the house. The captain blushed further and he hastened out of the hall before anyone should see and misconstrue it for unseemly indulgence in drink. Watching him go, Elrohir swallowed a chuckle and silently applauded his brother’s subtle, maddening and apparently highly efficacious courtship of Rivendell’s elusive Balrog slayer.

**********

He located Elladan almost at once. Some inner voice guided him to where the twin stood beneath a graceful beech. His supple frame rested against the sturdy trunk, his arms were folded across his chest and his head was bowed as if he was lost in some ponderous thought. He was a vision of unparalleled beauty – neither wholly elven nor mortal but a spellbinding fusion of the best of both races.

He and Elrohir had dressed differently this night, choosing not to mirror each other but to play opposites for a change, much to many a guest’s relief. Where Elrohir had clad himself in darker shades and bound his hair in a thick single plait, Elladan had opted for pale hues and minimal restraint of his flowing tresses. Both had donned the silver circlets of their princely stations and girded their waists with jeweled belts from which hung sheathed ornamental swords, heirlooms of their illustrious clan from beyond the sea. Neither had consented to the long heavy robes oft worn for such occasions but insisted on court tunics masterfully embroidered in gold and silver purl.

That such dress served to call further attention to the very things that drew eyes to their wondrous forms was not lost on Glorfindel. It was for that same reason that he usually preferred to array himself as the twins had this evening. A veteran wooer of others’ favors did not hide that which won those favors after all. Glorfindel was no cad who ruthlessly pursued without regard for the sentiments or fears of his potential companions but neither was he averse to using what enticements he possessed to full advantage.

He neared Elladan slowly, watching for the moment when the twin would sense his presence and look up. And indeed, Elladan lifted his head in time to see Glorfindel come to stand before him.

“You always know,” the warrior softly remarked.

Elladan smiled. “I don’t fight it,” he replied. At Glorfindel’s slight frown of puzzlement, he added: “The bond between us. You feel it, too, though you try to block it.” The captain’s sharp intake of breath told him his aim had been true and his smile waned somewhat. He regarded Glorfindel with pensive eyes. “What frightens you so?” he softly queried. “If I could spare you whatever it is that you fear, I would do it.”

Glorfindel turned a skeptical gaze on him. “Even to the extent of leaving me alone?” he challenged.

Elladan returned the gaze unflinchingly. “Except that,” he calmly said. “That would only do me – and you – a great disservice.” He dropped his arms and stepped up to the captain, smirked when Glorfindel tensed. No doubt he was recalling the encounter in the library where just such a step had preceded their first kiss. But he did not move away from Elladan despite his wariness. That was telling in itself.

“Why did you come after me?” Elladan inquired though he did not really expect the warrior to admit it.

Glorfindel’s first impulse was to deny this charge. And so he was as surprised as Elladan when he bluntly said: “I do not know.”

Elladan stared at him in some incredulity. Glorfindel bristled a little that he should be surprised at his response. But then Elladan smiled with such breathtaking sweetness he quite forgot what it was that had raised his ire.

“Mayhap you missed my inimitable attention,” Elladan teased.

Again his aim proved sure and Glorfindel sighed and said: “Mayhap.” He mildly glared at the younger warrior. “Are you trying to prove your contention true? That you know me even better than I know myself?”

Elladan chuckled and shook his head. “I said perhaps I do,” he corrected. “You are still a mystery to me, Glorfindel, in so many ways. If I could have only one of my two dearest wishes granted me this day, it would be that you allow me to know you better.”

“I suggest you pin your hopes on your other wish then,” Glorfindel wryly counselled him. “It will most likely be the easier to grant.”

Elladan’s eyes suddenly glittered in the moonlight. “You may not think so once you have heard it,” he murmured.

Glorfindel studied him cautiously. A moment later, he raised an amused eyebrow. “You are a glutton for disappointment, pen neth”—young one—he mocked. “Why must you persist in yearning for the impossible? I thought you knew enough about me to desist from feeding that desire.”

He awaited a witty riposte from his companion – Elladan was usually quick with his pointed rejoinders. But to his surprise, the twin’s eyes darkened with hurt instead.

“Knowing does not always stop the longing. You know that as well as I do,” he quietly answered. “Good night, Glorfindel.”

Perhaps it was the candid sadness that played out across Elladan’s expressive features. Or the pained hitch in his voice as he bade Glorfindel good night. Or simply guilt at causing him hurt on what was after all a special day for him. Or perhaps it was all these reasons and more. Whatever the answer, it compelled Glorfindel to stop the twin from leaving and gently turn him around to face him.

“I am sorry,” he sincerely said. “That was uncalled for and most undeserved by one as valorous and gallant as you.”

Elladan studied him for the space of a few heartbeats. When Glorfindel said his name with some concern, he lifted a hand and pressed his fingers against the captain’s lips to forestall him.

“Your words warm my heart,” he murmured. “But in all honesty I would rather warm your bed.”

Before Glorfindel could react, he replaced his fingers with his lips. The contact was electrifying though Elladan kept it light and tender and brief. When he pulled away, the effect on the captain was no different from what he had experienced during their first kiss.

He stared at Elladan in resigned acceptance of an implacable truth. A bond had been forged between them at first sight. What that bond entailed, Glorfindel did not dare examine just yet. But he knew it was useless to deny it any longer and that the delay in the consummation of it only served to tighten its hold over him. Over both of them. One oft hungered for what one could not taste. Once glutted the hunger would very likely abate or even vanish altogether.

He held out his hand. “Come,” he simply said.

Elladan looked keenly at him then took the proffered hand and followed Glorfindel back into the house. Back to the captain’s quarters.

***********

There was no initial coyness between them. No need for the usual overtures to sooth any nervousness or uncertainly. Almost as soon as they were through the door, they came together in a kiss far more blistering than their first. It was not to be expected that either would easily take the submissive role for both mastered others and were not given to being themselves mastered. But Elladan surprised Glorfindel once more and did, melting into the warrior’s fierce embrace, yielding to his plundering kiss. It spoke volumes of the price he was willing to pay for the privilege of sharing the fair-haired Elda’s bed.

His acquiescence sent shockwaves of desire coursing through Glorfindel’s body. There were few more splendid specimens of masculine beauty in Arda than the brethren. The mix of heritages that had gone into their making gave them an allure and comeliness that was of such potency as to make it difficult not to gawk at them, much less ignore them. Even more trying was forgetting the pleasures of intimate relations with either twin once one supped of their graces.

To master one who owned no master was an experience only a fool or coward would forego and Glorfindel was neither. He swiftly stripped Elladan, plying lips and tongue and teeth on firm flesh as it was bared, marking sun-kissed skin as he followed the downward path of discarded clothing, sharply aware of the hard column of flesh that so spectacularly bespoke the Peredhil males’ much vaunted virility.

By Elbereth, he would own Elladan this night and so thoroughly the twin would still feel his undoing come morn and beyond.

In one fluid motion of twist and shove he had Elladan flat on his back on the bed. His sapphire gaze stabbed at the twin, pinning him down as efficiently as any physical restraint. His eyes never leaving Elladan’s ravishing form, he shed his own clothing. And then he stood there, daring his imminent lover to look him over as brazenly as he had viewed Elladan earlier.

And the Peredhel did. Silver grey eyes raked his frame not only with lust but also curiosity. And avid appreciation. Glorfindel smirked when that gaze lingered awhile on the formidable shaft that rose between his legs, a shaft that already looked quite primed for a whole night’s worth of breaching. A soft intake of breath and Elladan was darting a look at his face, his eyes widening just that tiniest bit with – what? – apprehension? Glorfindel’s smirk deepened to an outright predatory smile.

He slipped onto the bed and crawled up the length of Elladan’s body in the deliberate manner of a panther stalking its fallen prey. He looked down at the twin and thought that, of all the spoils of battle he’d ever possessed, this would be the greatest prize of all.

“I hope you don’t regret what you wished for, ernilen,”—my prince—he cooed. His eyes gleamed as he noted the barely discernable shiver that rippled along Elladan’s shoulders.

No more words – no more coherent words – flowed between them as he bent to the pleasant chore of getting to know his companion’s delectable charms. Ah, Valar! Pleasant was a monumental understatement, he decided as Elladan came alive under his touch.

The older twin kept his word. He withheld nothing.

For one who had been born and raised to lead, yea, even to rule, to submit to conquest was unthinkable. But Elladan submitted. Not meekly, no. He was not a greenling in the bed-arts by any stretch of the imagination. But he did as Glorfindel bid. Lying still for the warrior’s leisurely partaking of his favors, suppressing the impulse to dictate the pace, biting back any protest that sprang to his lips when what was demanded of him went beyond what his warrior’s pride found endurable. Only his eyes blazed with defiance, telling Glorfindel what he truly thought of being in this subservient role.

Because that was what Glorfindel wanted of him this night. To spread himself for him not as a humbled captive soldier-prince but as one who would maintain his boldness before the enemy even in the face of certain defeat. For what could be more arousing to an elven captain gifted with Glorfindel’s legendary prowess than the prospect of besting a seasoned warrior and a fellow ellon at that?

A warrior of experience could take rough, bruising kisses to mouth and throat without flinching in alarm. Could endure the harsh suckling or sharp nipping of tender nipple and the softer flesh of belly and groin, hard enough to leave flagrant scarlet marks, with scarcely a wince and indeed buck up for more. Could understand the bloodlust that drove a battle-hardened soldier to dominate, to prove one’s mettle, to win against all odds.

Transferred to the bedchamber, that drive made for some of the most incendiary carnal encounters imaginable. It was this dynamic that could make the coupling of warriors so mercilessly addictive that souls of a particular bent, and they were far from few, found the gentler ministrations of non-combatants almost insipid to say the least.

The abrupt engulfment of his shaft by rapacious lips tore a loud groan from Elladan. Glorfindel smiled around his mouthful of luscious flesh at this evidence of the twin’s unraveling despite his efforts to withstand the captain’s onslaught. He felt the slightest lift of Elladan’s hips and swiftly grasped them and held them down. At once Elladan went still though a quick glance at his face revealed the Peredhel glaring at him with a mixture of frustration and umbrage.

Glorfindel met that gaze and held it by the sheer force of his iron will, compelling Elladan to witness the pillaging of his own body. It proved too much even for one of the older twin’s forbearance. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as completion took him with storm force. He spent himself fulsomely, barely suppressing a cry as Glorfindel greedily milked him of every last drop of his seed.

As the older warrior crept over him once more, forcing his legs apart that he might slide between them, Elladan crossed his arms before him in an instinctive gesture of defense. The motion stirred Glorfindel’s blood to boiling though in a distinctly sensual way. He caught the twin’s wrists and forced them to either side of his head, trapping them against the pillows. Elladan’s eyes snapped open and he boldly stared once more at Glorfindel.

Tucking his tongue into his cheek, the captain grinned wolfishly. “You are proving everything I have ever heard extolled about your graces,” he remarked. “‘Tis a pity that I will not have the opportunity to know your steel as well as your silk.”

Elladan lifted his chin defiantly. “You may yet know it,” he retorted.

Glorfindel’s eyes hardened. “I think not,” he countered, his voice as smooth as butter and lethal as hemlock.

A nudge against the inside of Elladan’s thigh told the twin what was expected of him. For the barest instant, something flickered in the pewter pools, causing them to falter in their otherwise steadfast gaze. Glorfindel wondered at that. So had Elladan looked when he first cast his eyes upon the captain’s naked form.

“Has it been a while?” he inquired, his tone gentling a shade. Expecting some response of concurrence, he was taken aback when Elladan broke eye contact and turned his face away, cheeks suddenly flaming. Glorfindel swore under his breath. “Surely, you cannot be untried!” he exclaimed.

Elladan jerked his eyes back to him. “I was not raised to play the sheath!” he ground out. He glared at Glorfindel, daring him to make something of his admission.

“Until now,” the warrior tersely commented. “So…think yourself Elf enough to take it?”

“As well as I give it,” Elladan snapped back.

“Indeed.” At the very thought of breaking in this stubborn, glorious soldier-lord, Glorfindel felt his shaft stiffen and thicken to an adamantine hardness he hadn’t previously thought possible. “Brave words,” he murmured.

Releasing Elladan’s wrists, he moved a hand between them. Keeping his eyes on Elladan’s face, he slipped it lower to test the Peredhel’s resolve. A second later, the twin hissed then bit his lip. Glorfindel continued to probe, adding another finger when Elladan’s initial tension subsided and finally a third. He thoughtfully regarded the twin then nodded and withdrew his hand. Under the other’s wary gaze, he wordlessly smeared the whole of his eager length with the burgeoning cream of his own seed. Done with that, he slid a hand under Elladan’s hips.

“Up, pen neth,” he quietly commanded. “Let us see what you are made of.”

Again, a hint of consternation shadowed Elladan’s eyes but with staunch determination, he obeyed. Glorfindel smiled as long limber legs snaked around his waist and an admirably well-shaped backside pressed against his groin. He leaned over Elladan, his hands gripping the twin’s slim hips.

Mindful of Elladan’s comfort despite the latter’s refusal to entreat him for gentler usage, he made his entry slowly. Inch by excruciating inch.

“One,” he whispered, watching Elladan’s face for signs of pain. The slightest frown appeared but no more. Very well. He eased in a little further.

“Two.” He smiled slightly when, in the wake of a faint wince, Elladan gaped at him upon realizing he was counting out the number of inches of rigid flesh the twin would need to accommodate.

“Three.” A sharp intake of breath told him Elladan’s discomfort was steadily increasing. Well, that was no surprise. Even the most practiced of his partners oft needed time to adjust to his intimidating girth and length.

“Four.” He noticed how the twin’s fingers dug into the snowy sheet beneath him then curled into fists. Still Elladan did not balk but continued to meet his eyes.

“Five.” He could no longer remain oblivious to the moist warmth, velvet softness and astonishing tightness that surrounded his shaft. The temptation to simply drive in all the way was almost too strong to resist. But the signs of pain in Elladan’s features stayed him just that while longer.

“Six.” A gasp broke from the twin followed by a grudging whimper. The grey eyes were brittle with the sting and burn within him. Glorfindel felt his own patience rapidly wane as he was further gloved in incredible silken heat.

“Seven.” Stifling a pained moan, Elladan finally gave up the battle to keep his eyes open. His breathing turned uneven as he struggled to unclench his resisting muscles and allow Glorfindel further passage without causing himself more discomfort.

“Eight.” Glorfindel fought to steady his own breathing. Elladan had thrown his head back slightly and the sight of his sleek throat arched and stretched was a veritable feast for the eyes. He bent down to nibble at the pulsing vein at its base, fetching a muffled groan as he did.

“Nine!” This last was gasped out against Elladan’s neck as, no longer able to hold himself back, he drove in all the way until he was completely sheathed. Elladan’s strangled cry pierced his daze and he stopped all movement. Panting hard, he focused on Elladan’s pinched features. “Elladan,” he murmured. “Look at me.”

Elladan opened his eyes and gazed at him. With an effort, he forced a small smile and whispered: “Nine inches. I never would have thought it of one as stately as you.”

Glorfindel’s huffed a chuckle at his indomitable spirit. And then he let his gaze sweep Elladan’s form once more all the way to his face.

“So beautiful,” he murmured. He closed his lips upon Elladan’s mouth. In the same moment, he shifted his hips. Once. Twice. He swallowed the twin’s surprised gasp. Moved again and felt Elladan’s shaft stir, lengthen and jab against his belly.

Drawing back, he gripped Elladan’s hips more firmly and, his patience at an end, began to thrust into him. Slow, deep, driving thrusts that sent thrills of purest pleasure coursing through both of them. Elladan’s eyes had widened with relief at that first spark of blissful sensation. Now they narrowed as he pushed back in active pursuit of pleasure, his powerful legs locking fiercely around Glorfindel with each inward stroke of the warrior’s shaft, drawing him even further into his body with every plunge.

Glorfindel groaned at the heady entrapment of his engorged flesh. But he was not in the least bit surprised. He had never expected Elladan to be a passive partner. Even his earlier submissive demeanor had been born of an active decision to behave thusly. To play the part for the sake of the pleasure to come.

Their movements became less rhythmic, began to quicken and roughen. As they neared the peak of their coupling, their breathing became ragged, their heartbeats grew frantic and a fine sheen of moisture turned their skin so slick that they slid against each other with greater ease. With a supreme effort, Glorfindel tore himself out of his pleasurable haze and reached between them to stroke Elladan’s upraised shaft. The wild gasps this wrung from the twin evinced the latter’s closeness to completion.

Elladan broke first, sobbing out his surrender to the unremitting waves of ecstasy that washed over him with pounding force. The pearlescent cream of his climax splashed over Glorfindel’s fist and dappled their bellies. His contracting muscles clenched hard around the captain’s embedded length. Glorfindel felt his control slip completely away. With a hoarse cry, he gave in to the floodgates of his own pleasure, spilling gush after gush of hot white seed into the willing body beneath him.

They collapsed together, Glorfindel just marshalling enough presence of mind to roll them on their sides so as not to smother Elladan under his body, pulling the twin against him so that he could rest his head on the warrior’s shoulder. It was several minutes before either could speak.

Glorfindel came out of his reverie first. “Do you regret your wish now?” he murmured.

Elladan softly laughed then lifted his head. “I would not be much of an Elf if I did, ” he pointed out. “Not that I am a full Elf,” he amended.

Glorfindel snorted. “Oh, you’ll do,” he drawled.

Elladan raised an eyebrow at that. “I’ll do?” he said with some acerbity. “Well then, I might as well leave you to find someone who will live up to your exacting standards.”

He made to rise but was promptly hauled back and flipped onto his belly. Catching his breath, he looked over his shoulder just as Glorfindel trapped him beneath his body. Warm breath brushed against his ear. He shivered as a tongue licked its way to a delicate peak.

“I was referring to the degree of your elvishness,” the captain pointed out. “Otherwise, you have more than impressed me. Furthermore,” he murmured, nibbling at the sensitive flesh, eliciting a cross between a yelp and a moan from his captive lover, “I promised myself that you would not be able to sit a horse for a day or so. I do not make promises lightly.”

Elladan’s groan of pleasure as he was once more filled to the brim was all Glorfindel could ask for and more.

*****************

Glossary:

Yavannië – Quenya for September

ellyn – male Elves (sing. ellon)

Edhel - Elf

To be continued...
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Twilight Tales - The Captain's Guerdon