To Explore Arda

Warnings: Minor bondage…Slash and…
This fic is very AU and doesn’t fall anywhere in Tolkien’s timeline. I have also changed the relationship of Haldir, Rúmil and Orophin. On the trading card for Orophin, he is named as Haldir’s kinsman. This got me thinking…I needed an outside relation for the family dynamics so for the sake of this fic, Orophin is Haldir & Rúmil’s cousin.

Feedback is most welcome!


Chapter 14: Revelations

Rúmil burst through the flap on Gildor’s tent, a triumphant smile on his face. Elrilon was helping the elf-lord settle in and both turned when the young warrior came in.

“You are of Finarfin’s house - King Finrod’s son.” It was said as a statement, the challenge to deny it clear.

Gildor turned away. “Finrod had no wife, penneth. I could not be his child.”

The brown-haired captain sighed and shook his head. “I think you have things to discuss.” Elrilon squeezed Rúmil’s shoulder as he moved past. He paused briefly. “Do not let him dismiss you.”

Rúmil nodded and waited for the captain to leave. “I do not have all the pieces; I was hoping you would fill in the rest.”

Keeping his back to Rúmil and staring at the tent wall, Gildor asked, “What pieces do you have that led you to think I am Finrod’s child?”

“I heard you call Galadriel Theladar [aunt] and she said something about being a prince and that you came with the host of the Valar. Then there is the necklace you wear. You said that your father gave it to your mother. I remember my lessons on the ancient houses and it is Finrod’s standard. I know you are Noldo, but they are mostly all brown or black haired. Only those of Finarfin’s house carry the golden hair of your grandmother.” Rúmil stopped and waited. When no reply was forthcoming, he stepped closer to Gildor. “Look me in the eye and tell me I am wrong and I shall never ask about your past again. Look me in the eye and tell me to get out and, though my heart will break, I will do as you ask and leave you forever.”

Gildor sighed. The secret was out. He could not look Rúmil in the eye and lie. Fearing the young elf’s reaction to the truth, the ancient prince continued to face away. When he spoke his words were soft and sorrowful. “You speak the truth, though there is much missing. I am Finrod’s bastard child. My father knew nothing of me. My mother is Amarië of the Vanya. She and my father were in love and planned to bind. Then the turmoil began and my father agreed to go with Fingolfin and the Noldor. In the weeks of preparation before anyone actually decided to leave, my parents pledged their hearts and souls to one another. They sealed their vows by making love. By the time my father left, my mother already knew she was with child. She told me once that she did not tell Finrod because she felt his path lay in Arda, and being the honorable elf he was, he would have remained behind. After he left, she confided in my grandmother. She was afraid of what would be said when she began to show. My grandmother spoke to my grandfather and he took her in. I was born into the house of King Finarfin. As I grew, any doubt that my father was Finrod faded, for according to those who knew him, I look just like him…except for the eyes, which are my mother’s. Since his own sons left, he named me heir apparent.

“In time, I realized that although Finarfin said that my parent had bound themselves and I was their legitimate child, there were those who disagreed and scorned us. Many did not think elves could bind without a proper courtship and ceremony. My mother began to hear the cruel whispers about her. Soon she began to spend most of her time in Lórien’s garden, having grown tired of it all and missing my father greatly. I was beginning to get restless, and with out her calming influence, I agreed to follow the Valar to battle.

“So the bastard son of Finrod came to Arda to learn that his father had perished years before. I had arrived to help my father too late. I could not take that news back to my mother so I stayed, wandering the land. In time, I had companions, and as the battle for the Silmarils raged and elves found themselves scattered, many joined me on my path. Soon those who knew my father found me pledged themselves to me and encouraged me to take up my father’s crown. It was, and still is, something I do not want. I made those who knew my lineage swear silence. So now you know the story.” Gildor ended abruptly. “I am nothing more that a bastard child, wandering aimlessly. I understand if you do not wish to stay with me. I have nothing to offer you.”

“Why would I leave?” Rúmil asked as he moved forward. “I have fallen in love with you.”

“How can you say that?” Gildor whipped around. “How can you love an elf that you thought was someone else? I am nothing, Rúmil. I am not prince, nor a great Elda. I am a poor bastard child who cannot even offer you a home! You deserve better. Find a more worthy elf!” Tears ran down Gildor’s face. He turned away again in shame. “Please, just leave me now.”

“You are the same elf as you were when I first met you. If you want nothing of your birthright, that is fine with me. I only wanted to get to know you better; I care not if your parents were bound or not, or if you are a prince, king or wanderer. I just want to be yours. You say I deserve better. But why? I am just a guardian, a common warrior. I cannot even choose to be greater than that. Furthermore, I am little more than a child. I fear you will grow tired of me; that you will find another, more worthy of you.” Rúmil stepped up behind Gildor and tentatively placed his hands on the taller elf’s shoulders. “Please do not send me away. Let me show you my love.”

Rúmil stepped back and began unfastening his tunic. Gildor, missing the closeness turned and watched with tear-filled eyes as Rúmil let his tunic slip from his shoulders. He kept eye contact with Gildor as his hands moved to the laces on his leggings. Soon those were stepped out of and the young elf stood before his soon-to-be lover in naught but a loincloth. He moved to stand in front of Gildor and gently wiped away the last of his tears. “No tears,” he whispered as he leaned in to place a butterfly kiss on Gildor’s neck. His fingers moved under the silken tunic. As he brushed against a hardened nipple, Gildor gasped. Rúmil kissed his way up the jaw to a soft earlobe, which he sucked.

The golden haired elf was so mesmerized by the onslaught he did not move as Rúmil caressed his chest and licked at his ear. Realization finally dawning, Gildor took control, needing the intimacy. He grabbed Rúmil’s head and kissed the soft lips passionately.

Rúmil moaned as Gildor claimed his mouth and a demanding tongue plunged in to taste him. The slighter elf pressed against the strong body before him, rubbing himself shamelessly against Gildor’s leg.

“Aye penneth, what you do to me,” Gildor panted as he nipped at Rúmil’s collarbone. “Do you trust me?” he asked.

“With my life.” Rúmil gasped as demanding hands explored his body.

“I do not want your life.” Gildor’s breath tickled his ear. “I want you. I want to show you a unique method of pleasure. Will you let me teach you?”

The guardian of the Golden Wood was weak in the knees. Gildor was undoing him with words alone. “Teach me. Do as you will with me.”

Gildor pulled Rúmil to a pile of silken blankets on a low bed. A gentle push and Rúmil lay down. Gildor went to a small table and retrieved what looked like scarves. He returned to the bed, and tying a scarf to each of the bed legs, he looked at Rúmil with sapphire eyes dark with desire.

Rúmil watched with fascination as his lover grabbed one of his ankles, pulled it to the bed corner and tied it with the scarf. His other leg was treated the same.

Gildor kept a careful watch for any sign of fear. Seeing only love and trust in the bright blue eyes, he moved to tie each wrist.

Soon Rúmil found himself spread-eagle on a pile of cool satin and silk. He watched as Gildor removed his own clothing, very slowly. Rúmil’s pulse quickened as each article was tossed aside. Gildor stood in front of him in his naked glory, his member already heavy.

The elf-lord climbed onto the bed and straddled his lover. “Laid out like a feast,” he said looking over the beautiful body below him. “I learned this long ago from the Haradrim. Be prepared for pleasures beyond your wildest dreams.” With that, he leaned down and lapped at a nipple. It pebbled and he took it in between his teeth. Rúmil arched against his restraints. Gildor’s hands caressed him and his lips suckled at his nipple. Sliding down, Gildor licked a trail down the plains of his abdomen, stopping to dip into a quivering bellybutton.

Rúmil was moaning and writhing wantonly. He gasped as he felt warm breath close to his straining member.
Gildor smiled as he ignored the bulge and instead lapped at the hip junction. His hand ran over the hardened flesh before sneaking under the loincloth at the thigh. He gently stroked the hot velvet, nuzzling the area and breathing in the musky sent of his young lover.

Rúmil thought he would die from sheer pleasure. Never had his body been so excited.

Gildor grew impatient and pulled at the ties that held the loincloth. As the material fell away, he ran his tongue up the long shaft. Rúmil was babbling incoherently. Gildor sucked and licked. His hands reached up to play with the sensitive nipples. Once he knew Rúmil was lost to the passion, he moved one hand to fondle the soft sacs. Then his hand slid under the firm arse and began to search for the most private entrance.

“Oh yes,” panted Rúmil, pulling against the bonds as his body was played. “Saes, more. Gods, I will not last!”

Gildor stopped his ministrations for a moment, and reaching up over Rúmil, he grabbed a small jar. Kissing Rúmil with all the passion he felt, Gildor returned to the impressive member. Taking it full in his mouth, Gildor opened the jar and dipped his fingers in the cool slick mixture. While Rúmil was focused on the heat surrounding his member and how erotic it felt to be unable to move and at the complete mercy of his lover, Gildor pressed at the puckered opening and inserted a finger.

Rúmil gasped momentarily then groaned in pleasure.

Gildor continued to suck as he added another finger, pumping into the tight channel. He sighed around Rúmil’s member and nearly spent himself. Rúmil was hot and tight and oh so willing.

“Ahhh! Gildor, I am going…hmmm! More! Faster…Saes, I am going to….” Rúmil arched as far as the bonds would allow and came hard. Gildor swallowed every drop and continued to stretch the tight passage, hitting that magical bundle of nerves every time.

Rúmil collapsed like jelly but soon found himself squiring again as pleasure began to build.

Removing his fingers, Gildor quickly unbound the long legs. Raising them, he positioned himself at Rúmil’s entrance. “I do not take lovers lightly and I want more than tonight. Will you be mine and only mine?” He looked at Rúmil.

“Melethron,” was the answer, and with a groan and a smile the Lord of the Wandering Company pushed in to the hilt. He waited a moment to let his lover adjust to the fullness.

Rúmil did not want to wait, and he wrapped his freed legs around Gildor’s waist and squeezed.
The older elf groaned at being pulled in deeper. Leaning forward, he began to thrust, making sure to send wave after wave of pleasure through his lover.

Rúmil panted and moaned, begging and pleading for more.

Reaching up, Gildor freed Rúmil’s arms, and the younger elf immediately pulled the elf-lord close. They fell into a steady rhythm and soon both called out as their orgasms were ripped from their bodies. As the passion subsided, Gildor pulled out carefully and slide to Rúmil’s side. He pulled the younger elf close. “Melethron,” he said lazily.

“Aye, Forever.”


Chapter 15: Turnabout is Fair Play

Rúmil woke from the most peaceful slumber he had experienced in weeks. Realizing that he did not have anything to put on come morning, he carefully extracted himself from Gildor’s embrace. He slipped into his leggings and as quiet as a shadow, he left the tent. Moving to the next tent, he entered the one he was to share with Eliron. Sliding past the flap, he was brought up short by the sight within.

Captain Eliron was bound as Rúmil has been earlier, however, there was a young woman in a short sheer gown lapping at his nipple while a young man, clad in only a loin cloth, sucked on the elf’s clearly erect member. The younger elf flushed at the sight. The captain moaned in pleasure as the young adan moved to lick the sacs.

The edain were so intent on their ministrations that they did not realize Rúmil had entered. The ancient elf, however, sensed the presence of the other. Opening his eyes, he winked at the guardian. Rúmil flushed and forgetting about clothing, left as quietly as he had came. Before he had gone more than three paces, he heard his friend cry out in pleasure. He quickly returned to Gildor’s tent and found his lover waiting for him.

“I feared you regretted what happened,” Gildor said.

Rúmil moved to the bed to reassure the older elf. “I regret nothing. I thought to retrieve fresh clothing but…”

Gildor smirked. “The good captain had company?”

“Two and he was…” Rúmil dropped to the bed, confusion on his fair face.

“One of each, right? Not surprised. He is discrete, but for so ancient an elf, his tastes and appetite for physical pleasure are beyond even mine. He can hardly wait to come here to get his release.”

“I gathered that from what he spoke of during the journey here,” Rúmil said. He turned to look at the lounging elf next to him. The sheet had slipped down to Gildor’s hip. Rúmil licked his lips. “Have you ever been bound?” he asked hesitantly.

Gildor eyed the young elf. “Yes, a couple of times.”

“I suppose you prefer to be the one to do the tying.”

“Actually,” the ancient elf said as he stretched like a great golden lion, “I like to be tied.”

Rúmil’s breath caught at the sight of the ellon stretching, muscles tight. Gildor was the most sensual being Rúmil had ever encountered. “Then you would not object if I wanted to tie you up?”

“I hoped you would, pendithen.”

Rúmil leaned down and planted a soft kiss on Gildor’s lips. As he deepened the kiss, he took hold of Gildor’s arm and guided it to the scarf. Sitting up, the younger elf carefully bound the elf-lord’s wrist. Again he kissed his lover then bound the other wrist. When he went to bind Gildor’s ankle, the older elf stopped him. Rúmil looked up.

“Untie the scarves from there and tie them here.” Rúmil looked where Gildor had indicated with his head. The guardian smirked as he saw the bed had six legs. He tied the scarves to the middle legs.

“They will not reach your ankles.”

Gildor winked. “Yes they will.” Gildor bent his legs up; his heels almost touching his buttocks. “Now tie them.”

Rúmil did as he was instructed, and when he looked at Gildor, his member throbbed, for there was nothing hidden from his eyes. He looked hungrily at the stunning figure lying bound to the bed. He moved to touch his lover, but Gildor's words stopped him again.

“You will find a blindfold in the pack by my clothing.”

“You wish me to blindfold you?”

“Aye, it heightens the anticipation. Then you may do to me was you will.”

Rúmil’s heart pounded in his chest as he retrieved the blindfold. He tied it gently about Gildor’s head and kissed the tempting lips. Sitting up again he gazed over the smooth creamy skin. He carefully dipped his head and touched the tip of his tongue to Gildor’s nipple. A small sigh escaped his lover’s lips. Next the younger elf licked up the perfect shell of an ear as his had slid down, tracing the muscles of Gildor’s stomach. Gildor moaned.

“Aye melethron. Yes, tease me,” the elf-lord pleaded.

Rúmil licked his way down and settled between the bent legs. Now he had a perfect view of not only Gildor’s erection standing tall but also the pink puckered opening he longed to sink into. His tongue flicked over the head, licking drops of cream from the slit. He ran his hand over a thigh and fondled the twin sacs. Rúmil had only had two lovers before Gildor and neither did anything like this. He let his dreams guide his actions, for he had dreamed of remarkable, sensual things that he longed to try now.

“Do what ever you desire. I trust that you will only give me pleasure.”

With the encouragement of his lover, Rúmil shifted on the bed. His hands massaged Gildor’s inner thighs as he licked and sucked on the ridged member. He let it slip from his mouth and smiled at the disappointed groan that resulted. Taking a calming breath, Rúmil lowered his head again.

“Augh! Saes!” Gildor called out as he felt the delicate tip of a warm wet tongue flick at his entrance. He pulled against his bonds trying to feel it again.

Rúmil repeated the action and again the elf-lord cried out.

Gildor panted and his member twitched and leaked his seed.

Growing bold, Rúmil lapped at the tight hole before plunging his tongue inside. He quickly grabbed the base of Gildor’s member and stopped him from gaining release.
“Not yet,” the Silvan said, his breath cooling the wet area. “I am not done playing yet.” Gildor began to plead and Rúmil chuckled as he was called some not so pleasant names. He moved off the bed long enough to slide his own leggings off. He then continued his ministrations to Gildor’s nether region, periodically licking at the weeping head. Rúmil’s own desire was building till near breaking point, but first he wanted to bring his lover as much pleasure…and torment…as possible. Still holding the base of Gildor’s member with one hand, he used his other to prepare his lover. “You are unbelievable, penmalthen,” he whispered. “I never dreamed that I would feel this way about anyone.” Rúmil pressed two fingers into the slick passage. “You have taught me so much more than I hoped.” He brushed the spot deep within Gildor and the elf moaned in ecstasy. A third finder was added and Gildor did his best to push back on them.

“Saes,” the bound elf begged. “Penneth, have me. I can bear it no longer.” He gasped as the bundle of nerves was brushed again. “Release my member and slide in. I long to feel you in me, filling me, claiming me,” Gildor panted.

Rúmil could take no more; the thought of claiming his lover caused his own weeping shaft to throb painfully. Lining up with Gildor’s entrance, he pressed forward slowly. He felt the guardian ring give way and the young elf moaned at the tight heat. He released the pressure on Gildor’s member, but continued to stroke it slowly. He pulled out and thrust back in, setting a slow, deep rhythm. He reached up and slid the blindfold off Gildor’s beautiful eyes. “I want to look into your eyes as you come undone,” he said with a smile. Their gazes locked as they moved as one. Rúmil found that he could not untie Gildor’s legs, however, he was able to undo the ancient elf’s wrists. Immediately he was crushed to his lover’s body.

“Enough teasing,” Gildor demanded “Saes, melethron. Make love to me, come with me.”

Rúmil quickened the pace, and in the position they were in, Gildor’s member was trapped between their bodies. As they rocked together, the pressure built and Gildor, his voice rough from panting, cried out Rúmil’s name.

The rippling movement of the tight passage milked Rúmil’s orgasm from him. He collapsed onto Gildor, whispering words of love. Catching his breath, Rúmil pulled out, untied his beloved, and pulled the blankets about them. He could see the dawn’s glow just beyond the tent flap. They had made love all night. The guardian sighed blissfully.

Gildor chuckled. When Galadriel had asked him to take a young elf with him, he never imagined that he would find the other half of his soul. Come morning, he would ask Rúmil to share his life with him permanently. But for now, he was content to hold his young lover close.


The End…well, for now.