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
- 4
- 5
- 6
Chapter 5 - The Council

Erestor woke and stretched luxuriously as he lay on his stomach. The soft sheets felt wonderful on his warm skin, and enticingly cool when he moved his arms to fresh areas that hadn’t been affected by his body heat. He lifted his head and turned it towards the veranda, the morning light showing deep red through his closed eyelids. Off in the distance, he heard the sweet song of a meadowlark. Late in the season, he thought, but probably stopping briefly on its journey to warmer climates. A light scratching came from one side of the room, and Erestor started to roll over to see what it was.
“Don’t move, Meldanya,” Glorfindel called to him.
Erestor stretched his neck, trying to look over his shoulder, “What are you doing?”
“I’m sketching your lovely arse,” Glorfindel answered with a smile on his lips.
“Is that all you love me for?”
“No,” Glorfindel said with humor in his tone, “but it definitely draws my attention.”
How was it that not but hours ago Fin had opened to him, like raw nerves touched by a breeze, exposed and vulnerable as he told his story. Now, with the new day, the elf lord was renewed, and back to his cheerful, if not foolhardy self, leaving Erestor to wonder if he would ever get used to this.
Glorfindel had only wanted to hold Erestor throughout the night, but the counselor wished for something more. It had been a very emotional conversation though, and they were both satisfied with nothing more than the warmth of embrace and comforting slumber. Seeing Fin in such fine spirits, he hoped those former cravings might be satisfied.
Erestor heard Glorfindel rustle as he stood from his chair and came to the bed, “You see, you are a marvelous specimen for an elvish body, so sleek and smooth, muscles slightly toned to perfection. This right here,” Glorfindel said, and Erestor felt the light touch of a finger between his shoulder blades, run slowly down his spine, “beautiful definition in the groove.” His finger played at the small of Erestor’s back. “And these dimples at either side … mmph … very sexy.”
The bed moved, and Glorfindel was kneeling next to him, the elf lord’s warm palm splayed firmly at the top of Erestor’s buttocks, “A perfectly rounded arse,” he whispered as his hand roamed to each muscled cheek, giving it a seductive squeeze.
Erestor’s body was thrumming from Glorfindel’s touch, and a finger traced the furrow of his arse, from the top to the juncture of his thighs. Then he felt Fin’s hand kneading the inside of his thigh as the elf lord spoke again, “The skin here is so supple, yet the muscles beneath when tense are vice-like, especially when they are wrapped around my waist.”
Unable to control himself, Erestor responded by arching his back, and offering Glorfindel his sketch worthy arse. Fin’s hands abandoned his body, and Erestor was immediately disappointed, until the scent of lavender enticed his senses. Another rustle of linen signaled Glorfindel’s nakedness. The hand returned, this time slick with the warmth of oil. He waited until the gilded warrior had him thoroughly aroused, his body feverish with need, and then lifted himself as if to roll onto his back. Glorfindel pressed him back into the sheets, and pushed his thighs apart, “Stay just as you are,” he said as his body covered Erestor, drowning the counselor in a sea of billowy cotton.
Erestor breathed out as Glorfindel glided slowly, but steadily into his body. Once settled, the elf lord started to his coaxing rhythm. The weight of the warrior pressed Erestor most delightfully into the soft mattress. He felt his long straight hair gathered and moved to one side. Then Glorfindel brought him about with a warm whisper of how euphoric it felt to be buried within, and an explanation of every pulse, every sensation as it happened. Light kisses covered Erestor’s neck and the side of his face. The slight scraping of teeth ran across his shoulder, sending a shiver along his spine, which made him convulse uncontrollably. At last, the sensation of inevitability gripped them both, bodies tense and writhing tempestuously until the lovers were spent of their energy.
Glorfindel completely blanketed Erestor … body, mind and soul … and stayed that way as he caressed his lover with nose and lips, softening within after making love. Eventually, he slid to Erestor’s side, and the pair drifted in and out of elvish sleep as they recovered.
After a while, Erestor rolled to his side, facing Glorfindel who was lying on his back with a satisfied smile. Erestor knew that look of serenity, as if everything were right in the world, and all achievements had been fulfilled. The counselor felt unquestionably the same.
In the quiet and comfort of the room, Erestor’s thoughts turned to upcoming events, “Elrond’s council will assemble soon.”
“Yes,” Glorfindel agreed, “And you have concerns?”
“Of course I do. I mostly wonder about you though.”
“Me?” Glorfindel said surprised.
“You don’t fool me. I know you wish to be involved. It is what you do, Fin. It’s what you always long for,” Erestor said.
“If I am needed—”
“You are needed,” Erestor interrupted, “Right here … in Rivendell … with me.” He turned onto his back and stared through the ceiling. “You will go if you are asked, won’t you?”
“We don’t know of any plans at this point,” Glorfindel comforted.
“We know the weapon must be taken out of Rivendell. My biggest fear is that you will be the one to do it, and with this task will surely come many risks.”
Glorfindel rolled onto his side and studied Erestor’s face, “Meldanya, if I am asked, I must accept.”
“And if you are not asked?” Erestor wondered, “Will you promise me that if you are not asked—”
Glorfindel sighed deep and touched Erestor’s chin, stifling his words, “You know I can make no such promise.” The elf lord kissed Erestor then, a long and lingering kiss. “Let us hear out the council first. There are many others with concerns and questions. We do not yet know the outcome.”
This was not the answer Erestor was looking for. He wanted to tell Glorfindel that he forbade him to leave or volunteer with whatever the council might decide, but he could not do that. Glorfindel was a leader, a warrior, an ancient elf born in Valinor. He had seen evil rise and fall many times throughout his life. He had seen it change faces from one foe to the next. It only made sense to send Glorfindel to complete any tasks that might arise, but Erestor wished he wouldn’t. He nodded and smiled halfheartedly, but remained silent.
The discussion was becoming too serious and a little uncomfortable. Erestor turned to face Glorfindel, and gazed into the blue forever of his eyes. Fin was right, of course. It was better to wait and see what happened at Elrond’s council, and for that reason, Erestor did not pursue this anymore. Instead, he reached for a golden strand of Glorfindel’s hair, tickling his lover’s nose, and bringing their attention back to the present. “So, are you going to show me the drawing? After all, that’s what started this, and I’d like to know what it is you see that lures you into such a desirous mood.”
“It’s simply seeing you—anywhere and in any form—that encourages my appetite, Meldanya,” Glorfindel responded, “And once the bones have hardened again in my legs, I shall retrieve the drawing and show you.”
“Don’t bother with it. I’d rather you stayed where you were,” Erestor said with a smile, the meaning running much deeper than was intended.
“Perhaps we shall be turned to stone and remain here forever,” Glorfindel joshed, as his finger traced the outline of Erestor’s pebbling nipples.
“Keep touching me like that, and I know something that will definitely turn to stone,” Erestor responded, and he pushed himself against Glorfindel’s hip.
“Why, Counselor, I do believe you have a wicked side.”
“That’s our little secret, hmm?” Erestor growled in Glorfindel’s ear before caressing him with a pointed tongue.
It would be late morning before either elf emerged from Glorfindel’s home.
* * *
The day of Elrond’s secret council had finally arrived. It started out like any other crisp autumn morning, not the kind of day one would expect when confronting the questionable future of all the free people of Middle-earth. Erestor thought it might have been easier to discuss the current situation had it been dark and gloomy. No one had told the sun not to shine, or the birds not to sing. All of nature was oblivious to the serious matter at hand, and Erestor felt a ping of jealously towards their unintentional disregard.
The guests were all seated … men, dwarves and elves all strategically placed in a half circle. Elrond walked out onto the veranda followed by Erestor and Glorfindel. They took their places at the head of the circle and the meeting began.
The discussions were common to start with, introductions and such. The man from Gondor seemed to keep to himself and listen to the others. The dwarves were … well, being themselves, eyeing everyone with suspicion, but none more than the Mirkwood elves. It was no secret of the love lost between those two races … if there had been any to begin with. The feud went back many years, back to when the dwarves still inhabited Erebor, before the destruction and desolation by the dragon.
The dwarves were not the only ones eyeing the elves of Mirkwood. Aragorn, foster son of Elrond, Dunedain Ranger, and heir to the throne of Gondor, kept glancing at Legolas, then away as though he knew something the others did not. Erestor watched this display carefully. Something had escaped his preparation perhaps. Had Aragorn discovered the affair between the two elf guards? No, Erestor concluded. The man never acknowledged them, only Legolas. The Mirkwood Prince remained unemotional, but Erestor could see the blue eyes dart to Aragorn from time to time. Whatever had occurred, it would come out soon, and no sooner had he thought that, when Legolas took his turn to speak.
Legolas told of a creature that had been captured and entrusted to Mirkwood for safekeeping until the wizard Gandalf could interrogate him, and find out what he knew of Sauron and the weapon. Legolas reported that the elves—who felt sorry for the creature, Gollum—allowed him a bit of supervised freedom, and were attacked by orcs. Because of this, Gollum was taken into the hands of the enemy. It was an unfortunate setback in Gandalf’s plans, and Legolas took full responsibility for the blunder.
Erestor watched as Legolas kept his composure, but he could not hide the regret and sorrow in his eyes. The counselor leaned towards Glorfindel, and whispered, “Legolas was involved with this, wasn’t he?”
Glorfindel lowered his eyes away from the Mirkwood elves, “He was in charge of the guards who watched Gollum. He gave permission to allow the creature a bit of fresh air. Some of Legolas’ men were killed that day, and he feels responsible for their deaths.”
“Oh,” Erestor said sadly. He hadn’t known that much about the incident. “What a terrible burden to carry.”
“Thranduil should never have given him that much control. Legolas is young yet. His heart is still tender, and he felt sorry for the creature. Personally, I believe it was all part of Gollum’s plan to escape … not the orcs, of course. Now, Legolas feels he has disgraced his father.”
“You seem to know a lot about it,” said Erestor.
Glorfindel nodded, “The Prince came to me for advice. You see, his father relieved him of his duties after it happened, and put Legolas’ brother in charge. He told the Prince he must make things right, and start by telling Elrond in person about the escaped prisoner. Legolas worries about what will happen when he returns home. His father can be quite strict with his sons. Legolas made a poor decision, though he made it out of the goodness of his kind heart. I can’t help but feel sorry for him. It’s quite a difficult lesson to learn for such a young ellon.”
Erestor became suspicious of Glorfindel’s tone as he finished speaking. The elf lord was planning to do something to help save Legolas further embarrassment, but what that was Erestor was unsure.
The meeting progressed until Elrond turned his attention to the hobbit, Frodo, who had sat silently next to Gandalf, looking weary and confused. Frodo snapped to attention at the mention of his name, and came forward. He reached into his pocket and retrieved a ring, laying it on a marble table for all to look upon.
A hushed gasp fell across the veranda. Every eye was trained on the small golden trinket. Erestor couldn’t help but notice how simple of a thing it was. Plain and smooth, the golden ring hardly looked like something that could destroy Middle-earth.
“The ring of Sauron,” Elrond announced quietly, “Don’t let its appearance fool you. It is a very powerful weapon, and the dark lord will not stop searching for it. His will is bent towards it, and it answers his call.”
“Then why is he not here now?” one of the dwarves asked.
“He does not know where it is. To Sauron, the ring is still lost, but should it come into his possession again, he will be the most powerful being in Middle-earth. No one will escape his wrath. While it is still lost, though, it is up to us to decide what to do with it so that the dark lord never finds it.”
Everyone sat in stunned silence and pondered the situation. To Erestor’s surprise, it was Boromir, the Captain of Gondor, who made the first suggestion, that the ring should go with him back to Gondor where he and his men could wield it against the enemy. Aragorn rebutted, pointing out the fact that it could not be controlled by anyone other than Sauron. Elrond backed up this statement, saying that the only way to ensure everyone’s safety was to destroy the ring, and that they were here to decide how it should be done.
Many ideas were tossed around of how to go about this. Then Glorfindel stood and remarked, “It should be taken by one of us and thrown into the fires of Mount Doom. That is the only way. It must be destroyed from whence it was forged.”
One of the dwarves jumped to his feet and said angrily, “And I suppose you think it should be you?”
Erestor watched and waited for Glorfindel to answer. Glorfindel ignored the dwarf, and looked straight at Erestor as he answered, “Yes, I do.”
“Fin, no,” Erestor whispered, but Glorfindel went on.
“There are nine Nazgûl who constantly search for the ring. They will destroy anything and anyone who stands in the way of their task, but fear me they do. I believe the ring would be safe under my protection.”
Erestor wracked his brain for another solution, “Well, you … you could take it to Tom Bombadil. Surely he could use his magic to hide it away where it cannot be discovered.”
At this point, Frodo spoke up, “I have met Tom Bombadil, and I can assure you he will not take the ring.”
“Tom Bombadil would misplace it first,” added Gandalf, “He is a foolhardy soul who means well, but cannot be trusted to stay the course.”
“Then take it out to sea, and drop it in the fathomless depths where it can never be found,” Erestor pleaded, desperate for a different answer than the one Glorfindel suggested.
Individual arguments broke out over what to do with the ring. Boromir disagreed with Aragorn and the twins. The dwarves argued with the Mirkwood elves. Erestor stood silently and regarded Glorfindel, ignoring the individual altercations surrounding him. No one was paying him any attention now, and continued his personal conversation, “All I am saying is that there must be another way. Why must it be you? Why must it always be you?”
Glorfindel defended his suggestion, “I have had dealings with the Nazgûl before. They will not come near me. They know me, they know my story, and they fear the power that the Valar has bestowed upon me.”
“But do you know what you are suggesting? Walking into Mordor is suicide. You are not invincible, Glorfindel. The Valar gave you a second chance at life. They will not give you a third.”
Glorfindel angered and stood face to face with Erestor, “They gave me new life, yes, but without a purpose. They brought me back from death, and told me my task was not complete, but they did not tell me what my task was. Do you know what it is like to always wonder why? Why was I spared and my fallen brothers were not? You were not there, Erestor. You did not see how brave my men were, how they stood with me and died around me. It was my destiny to slay that balrog, to join my brothers in Mandos hall, but I was brought back, and they were not. The harsh reality wracked me with guilt for years, but to always wonder when I would finally carry out my last task has sometimes been torture. So yes … yes I say I will take the ring, for this may be the reason I was given another life, one that I sometimes think I do not deserve.”
“How can you say this to me?” Erestor said, hurt by Glorfindel’s admission. “You would rather know your task and die than to stay with me and let me love you forever. Is this what you want?”
“I just want to know why I was chosen and when my debt will be paid,” answered Glorfindel.
“And why must this debt be paid in death? Maybe you have already accomplished your repayment. Maybe you live, Fin. Maybe this … us … you and me … maybe this is your reward.”
“If it is, then why have I not been told? Why do I still feel as if there is something more I must do?”
Erestor took a step back and glared at Glorfindel, “I am sorry you feel that way, because I think you are my purpose at life. I allowed your love into my heart, and I’ve never felt so complete. But I guess you cannot say the same.”
“That is not what I am saying. Erestor, just listen to me a moment and let me—”
Their conversation, as well as the surrounding arguments, was interrupted by a dark and devious voice. The black speech of Mordor thundered in their ears. The very ground beneath their feet shook. The veil of safety that had always covered Rivendell was suddenly stripped away and all were vulnerable.
Not until Gandalf interrupted, countering the evil voice, did it quiet and still. The shadow that blanketed the veranda disappeared as the wizard chased away the despair with his magical words. But it was too late. Everyone at the meeting had been touched by the voice of Sauron, and fear stuck in their hearts.
Then, through the silence, a small voice called out and declared, “I will take it. I will take the ring.”
Frodo now stood next to the marble stand, staring at the ring and stated, “I will take the ring and destroy it. Bilbo found it and kept it all these years, but he has gifted it to me. Now it is my burden to bear. ”
No one had considered this before, and slowly everyone came to the same conclusion. Frodo was the only one that anyone trusted, but he could not do it alone. After some discussion, Elrond agreed and decided that the hobbit should be accompanied to carry out this task. Aragorn volunteered first, as did Boromir, on behalf of Men.
Erestor felt Glorfindel’s gaze upon him, but he would not give acknowledgement. He already knew what the elf lord would choose to do. There was no reason to plead anymore. Glorfindel would represent the elves on this excursion, and he would most likely never come home again.
“I will go,” Glorfindel finally said, but there was no answer from Lord Elrond. Erestor lifted his eyes to see what was happening.
Elrond stepped towards Glorfindel and rested his hand on the warrior’s shoulder, “I knew you would, but I cannot accept your offer.”
“I don’t understand,” said Glorfindel, confused by Elrond’s refusal.
“It has nothing to do with your abilities. You are probably the most capable of all of us, but it is what you said that makes me refuse. The Nazgûl know you quite well, Glorfindel, and if they see you with this group of travelers, they will suspect something right away. Secrecy will guarantee success with this mission. You shine too brightly, my friend, and you would put Frodo and the others at great risk.”
“I will go for the elves,” Legolas announced as he came forward. The two guards that accompanied him looked stunned and tried to protest, but Legolas stopped them, “No, I must do this, and who else here can represent our race.”
Elrond silently conferred with Glorfindel, who nodded in agreement. Then Lord Elrond turned to Legolas and accepted his offer.
A moment later, Gimli the dwarf, son of Glóin, jumped from his chair and stood next to his rival, Legolas, declaring participation and representation for the dwarves. He looked up and glared smartly at Legolas, who rolled his eyes in return.
There was another disruption as the remainder of the hobbits jumped out from the bushes, demanding that they must go with Frodo. Erestor saw his chance to leave the council while Elrond and the other advisors were busy finalizing the members of the traveling party. Glorfindel was speaking with Legolas, and was distracted, so Erestor slipped quietly away. He was disappointed with Glorfindel and his reasoning. He did not think it was wise to speak with him any further until he’d had a chance to sort things out. Once again, Glorfindel put his need for involvement and danger above their relationship. He didn’t want to, but Erestor started to toy with the idea that this companionship was not meant to be.
“When will it be enough?” he whispered to himself as he strolled through the grounds, “When will my love ever be enough for him?”
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