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Windows of the Soul	By : FimSian Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 1989 -:- 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
- 8
- 9
- 10
Title: Windows of the Soul
Chapter: 9/11
Author(s): Fimbrethiel &
Sian
Beta: Alex
Contact: Fimbrethiel@yahoo.com & Sian265@aol.com
Type: FPS AU
Fandom: LOTR
Pairing: Erestor/Gildor
& Erestor/Glorfindel
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Strong sexual
situations between Males, Extreme Violence and Graphic Images.
Disclaimer: We are
shamelessly playing with Tolkien�s Elves, but we swear it is just for fun! All
the lovely Elves are the property of the esteemed Prof. Tolkien�s estate.

Summary:
By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked to Lindon comes... a serial
killer is on the loose

A/N:
Many thanks to Alex for the beta!
A/N
2: Hot Elf sex courtesy of Fim!

The stroke of midnight found
Erestor prowling the halls of the palace, lost in thought. He had changed into nightclothes, but knew
sleep was hours away. He thought to
clear his mind by taking a brief walk through the vast and winding corridors,
but soon lost track of time.

Most of the palace residents
were long abed, though as he passed like a quiet breeze through the halls,
snatches of sound could be heard from various rooms. From a few the murmur of hushed conversation could be heard,
though the words were undistinguishable through the heavy wooden doors. A ringing peal of hearty laughter from one,
the clinking of glassware from another, the raised voices of a quarrel from
still another.

With a start, Erestor became
aware as he passed Gildor�s quarters of the unmistakable sounds of lovemaking
resounding from within. He stared at
the door, dumbfounded. Never had he and
Gildor pretended what they felt for one another was love, but neither had
Erestor ever seen the younger Noldo with a lover, nor had he ever spoken of
someone who had claimed his heart. The
impassioned moans brought other things to mind, and Erestor felt his groin
tightening at the spontaneous vision that popped into his mind, that of a
golden, blue-eyed Elf spread out beneath him, wanton and undone in
passion. Immediately he suppressed that
image, and with a shake of his head at his own folly, he continued on, quickly
consumed again by his musings.

Erestor became conscious of
his whereabouts a short while later. It
was with little surprise that he realized his wanderings had brought him all
the way to Glorfindel�s chambers, two levels above his own and in a completely
different wing. �Good eve, Pedhrin,� he
greeted the guard seated in a straight-backed chair stationed a few feet away
from the Elda�s rooms. The same guard
who had accompanied Glorfindel to the woods earlier that day.

Erestor�s stomach lurched
uneasily. Had Pedhrin seen him watching
Glorfindel�s swordplay? Seen his cheeks
flush with lust as he hid behind a tree, lurking like a thief?

Pedhrin nodded in
greeting. �Lord Erestor,� he responded
politely. �Captain D�rion told me what
happened earlier. I can assure you, sir,
that Lord Glorfindel has not been unguarded all day. He asked leave to practice with his sword early this morning. I accompanied him to the woods myself.�

The elf-Lord barely
restrained a sigh of relief. From
Pedhrin�s words, he had been unaware of Erestor�s presence. It would make sense that the guard�s focus
was on Glorfindel � he would have had no reason to suspect the Elda was being
watched. �Excellent. He would not still
be awake, by any chance?� he said. Now what made me say that? He
wondered.

�I believe he is. There is light showing from under his door,
and I have heard some rustling about.�

Erestor nodded. �Thank
you.� He knocked sharply and waited
until the door opened a crack, revealing a tousled golden mane and a single
blue eye that peered suspiciously out into the hall.

�Lord Glorfindel,� Erestor
said. �May I come in?�

The door opened wider and
Erestor stepped through into the spacious anteroom. A small dining table was in one corner, the pristine white
tablecloth bearing a plate, some cutlery, and a small tray that evidently had
held Glorfindel�s dinner that evening.
Beyond the common room were two doors, one to a private bathing chamber,
and the other to a bedchamber. �What do
you want?� Glorfindel asked. �Have you
come to hurl false accusations at me, Lord Erestor? Did you not do enough of that earlier, and thought you decided
you needed more?� Glorfindel�s voice was hostile, and he did not offer Erestor
a seat. �Have you found me guilty of
stealing the King�s silver, perhaps? Or
of drowning a litter of puppies?�

Erestor sighed heavily. �No, Lord Glorfindel. I was simply walking, and found myself near
your chambers.� He rubbed his eyes
tiredly. �I thought we could talk.�

�No?� Glorfindel came
straight to the point. �If you have not
come to cast further aspersions upon my character or to heap falsehoods upon my
head, then why are you here?�

That is a very good
question, Erestor thought. Why exactly am I here? Because I saw you in the forest today and
had doubts about your guilt? Because I
found myself aroused and wanting you? Instead,
he settled for a half-truth. �You profess
your innocence. I want to know why I
should believe you.�

�Why would you believe me
now, when you refused before?� the blond�s lip curled into a sneer, the
handsome face twisted into a gruesome mask.

Because I have trouble
reconciling the beauty and grace that I saw today with the actions of a
cold-blooded murderer, Erestor
thought, but did not say. He pinched
the bridge of his nose and counted to ten.
Slowly. Then counted again, for
good measure. �You say you are
innocent. Convince me,� he said
again. �Make me believe you did not
kill those ellith.�

Glorfindel harrumphed. �Whatever happened to �innocent until proven
guilty?�

�You are a murder suspect,
Glorfindel,� the Noldo stated, dispensing with the formalities of titles. �A
suspect with a somewhat questionable past.
You must admit that the evidence against you is damning.�

�There *is* no evidence,
Erestor,� the blond retorted. �The only
thing I am guilty of is being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I killed no one.�

�You killed no one?� Erestor
mocked. �Did N�mo purge your memory
when he released you from his Halls?
Does �Kinslaying� mean nothing to you?�

A white light seemed to
suddenly shimmer around the Elda, and he took a menacing step forward. His eyes sparked blue fire as they bored
into Erestor�s.

�I killed no one,�
Glorfindel hissed.

�Then tell me. I want to believe. I *need* to believe you.�

Make me believe,
Glorfindel, or I am lost, Erestor
implored silently. I am dangerously
close to falling in� something� with you.
I need to know that I did not misjudge you. I need to believe that there is something good and pure in this
world. Please.

The Elda leaned closer, so
close that Erestor could smell honey and chamomile on his breath from his
evening tea. �Turgon was my liege lord,
and where he bade me go, I followed. He
spoke out against F�anor and counseled against leaving Tirion, though in the
end, F�anor�s desire prevailed and we set out.

�Turgon would not be parted
from Finrod, his cousin, and lagged behind with the house of Finarfin. A sense of foreboding was upon us, our
hearts filled with dread. F�anor�s fury
drove his sons on, all of them filled with the lust for the Silmarils and their
terrible vow.

�He was mad, Erestor,
blinded by desire to recover his jewels, and would not be gainsaid. By the time Finarfin�s host arrived in the
Havens of Alqualond�, Fingolfin�s House had joined the fray, believing wrongly
that the Valar had decreed F�anor be stopped at any cost. It was a massacre, and we could do nothing
to stop it. We did everything we could,
but it was only after most of the Teleri were slain and the rest cowed by
F�anor�s rage that we could draw close; by that time, he had taken their ships
and set sail. Finarfin turned back
then. He begged pardon from the Valar,
but Turgon went on, driven by guilt and fear.�

Glorfindel took a step
closer, that unholy white aura flickering brighter. Erestor took an uneasy step back. �I can only imagine the horror of that day,� Erestor murmured, beginning
to understand the full impact of the tragedy from one who witnessed it
firsthand. He was only a small boy
then, though he had heard the tales from his parents of the sorrow of the
Kinslayings.

�You have no idea what
horror is, my friend. That was only the
beginning,� the Elda spat. �Horror is
living with the guilt of being helpless to stop what amounted to wholesale
slaughter.�

Another step closer. His nostrils flared with his anger. �Horror was hearing the crackle of the
flames even from miles away as the ships burned at Losgar, the screams of the
Teleri carried on the wind as they burned to cinders.�

Step. Retreat.
�Horror was the crossing of the Ice, hearing Turgon cry out in anguish
as Elenw� stumbled and fell through, her mouth forming soundless screams under
the ice. We could only stand and watch
as her body was carried away beneath our feet.
I restrained Turgon when he thought to throw himself in after her. I could do nothing to save her, and it was
only sheer chance that I managed to keep him alive.�

Erestor paled. His voice cracked and he shook his
head. �I have heard enough.�

His chest heaved and his
voice shook, but Glorfindel went on.
�You have not heard nearly enough, Erestor. Shall I tell you about Gondolin?
I counseled Turgon not to trust Maeglin, but he would not heed my
warning. Idril and Tuor escaped with
E�rendil, but the rest could not flee.
Almost an entire city � dead. I
could not save them, either.�

�Then I died, too. And in a twist of supreme irony, I found
myself sharing that dark prison with the one responsible for my own death �
Maeglin the Traitor.�

Glorfindel advanced on the
dark-haired Elf, backing him against the wall with no means of escape. Tears of frustration and anguish shone
brightly in his eyes. �And the burden
of thousands of years spent in silent reflection of my wrongs, the blood shed,
the guilt and pain� No, beautiful one,
you cannot *begin* to imagine what horror is.
It is no small wonder I have nightmares.� His eyes burned into Erestor�s, their lips only a hair�s breadth
apart.

Erestor, shaken, could only
whisper. �I had no idea.�

�No, I cannot imagine you
would,� the blond said heatedly. �And
now I am here, supposedly purged of my transgressions, yet nothing is the
same. All that I know and loved is
gone. I go to bed alone, and I wake
screaming in the morning, with only my right hand to give me comfort.�

The heat poured from
Glorfindel�s body. The scent of his
anger was sharp in Erestor�s nostrils, the tang of his rage palatable. Like the energy in the air before a
lightning storm, his fury enveloped them.
Erestor shivered; the raw, untamed power rolling from the Elda went
straight to his groin � his wrath was a potent aphrodisiac. Those eyes, gone blue-black, sparked feverishly. Like F�anor�s eyes must have, Erestor
thought randomly.

Glorfindel reached out,
trapping Erestor in place against the wall.
Erestor�s fear and arousal in turn fueled the Elda�s hunger. He pressed against the dark-haired Elf,
letting Erestor feel the extent of his desire.
His length ground painfully into Erestor�s hip. �Now do you understand, Erestor? Can you finally believe I did not kill those
ellith? I *could* not. The very thought of bloodshed turns my
stomach. Never will I forget the
screams and the horror of those who were so brutally slaughtered that day. We could not stop it, Turgon, Finrod, and
I. We were powerless, and we all died
knowing of our guilt.�

He clenched Erestor�s jaw in
his hand and claimed those ruby lips in a bruising, harsh kiss.

Erestor was stunned. He could not move, could not respond. He stood motionless while the blond
ruthlessly plundered his mouth. Glorfindel�s
lips mashed against his, a slick tongue forcing its way between his lips. Only when the blond�s strong white teeth
caught a bit of tender lip and drew blood did he come back to his senses and
begin to struggle.

Glorfindel�s body was strong
and immovable, pressing him firmly against the wall. Erestor was pinned in place, on hand gripping his jaw, the other
knotted in the length of his hair. He
struggled to work his hands in between their bodies to push the Balrog-slayer
away.

The Elda finally broke the
kiss and raised his head, panting. �You
want me. Do not deny it.�

�You are wrong.� Erestor could not meet the blond�s eyes.

Glorfindel dropped his hand
to the bulge between Erestor�s legs and squeezed lightly. He leaned close, his lips stirring the
silken ebony hair over Erestor�s ear and breathed, �Am I? This tells me otherwise.�

Erestor whimpered,
conflicted. This was wrong � Glorfindel
was a murder suspect, for Elbereth�s sake.
But after everything the Elda said, Erestor simply could not believe the
famed and revered Glorfindel of Gondolin was a murderer, no matter how strongly
the evidence spoke otherwise. The anguish in his voice and the pain reflected
in his eyes was genuine. And by Manw�s
crown, he wanted this. More than
anything he could remember in recent history.
Oh Valar, he wanted Glorfindel.

He forced his eyes to meet
Glorfindel�s lust-darkened sapphire gaze.
�You do not need to take what I am willing to give.�

Understanding dawned on
Glorfindel�s face, and he loosened his grip on Erestor�s jaw. His features relaxed, and he leaned down to
kiss Erestor again, but more gently this time.
It was not a soft kiss by any means, but gone was the rage and fury of
before. The white shimmer surrounding
his body slowly faded as his anger abated.

Glorfindel swiped his tongue
over Erestor�s swollen lip, cleaning the tiny drop of blood away. He pressed against the smaller Elf�s body,
roaming his hands over his slender frame, feeling the hidden strength in those
deceptively slim limbs.

Erestor�s arms rose to
caress the broad shoulders and he leaned his head back against the wall,
allowing the blond warrior free access to his body.

Strong, white teeth nipped as
the tendons of his neck stretched tightly, his head thrown back in
rapture. His breathing quickened when
the warrior�s battle-hardened hands slid under his robe and drew it down over
his shoulders. Glorfindel drew one
pebbled nipple into his mouth, rolling it around wetly while his fingers
tweaked and pulled its mate. Glorfindel�s hand continued to stroke Erestor�s
arousal through the silk of his bed pants, the Elda�s hand roughly gliding,
stroking along his length, causing Erestor to moan in need.

�I want you, Erestor.�

�Valar, yes,� Erestor
groaned. �Here, now.�

Glorfindel pulled away,
panting. He strode the two paces over
to the table and with a broad sweep of his arm, sent crockery and silver
crashing to the floor.

Erestor watched with
lust-darkened eyes as shards of porcelain and crystal littered the tiled
floor. This would be no gentle
coupling, he knew, with pretty words and romantic trappings. No, this would be unrestrained and forceful,
and that was fine with him.

A loud rap sounded at the
door, and Pedhrin�s voice called out sharply, �Lord Erestor? Is everything all right?�

Erestor�s head jerked toward
the door, his eyes wild and feral. He
had forgotten about the guard just outside.
Erestor swallowed twice before his voice would finally work. �Aye, Pedhrin, everything is fine. Lord Glorfindel simply, er, dropped his
dinner tray.�

�Shall I send a maid to
clean it up, my Lord?� came Pedhrin�s solicitous voice, muffled through the
door.

Erestor�s voice was
high-pitched and wheezy as he responded, �Nay, we will take care of it. Thank you.�
For at that moment, Glorfindel pulled Erestor toward him. With one hand, he snapped the knot on the
advisor�s bed trousers, and they fell to the floor, freeing a long, slender
shaft, purpled with arousal and weeping freely. The Elda pushed Erestor roughly face down over the table and
kicked his ankles apart, spreading his legs wide.

Breathing harshly, he loosed
his own trousers and stepped out of them, and a heavy, thick shaft sprang
free. Frantically he looked about the
room. �Oil�� he muttered, �No oil.�

Spotting a small dish of
fresh, soft butter left from the remains of his dinner, he grabbed it and slathered
the greasy substance over his cock. He
returned to the dish, scooping up a bit more, and with no warning slid a
slippery finger into Erestor�s passage.
Erestor barked in surprise but before he could utter another sound,
Glorfindel thrust in a second finger, pumping them in and out a few times,
coating Erestor�s channel well..

He is tight, oh gods so
tight, Glorfindel thought. He could wait no longer, and removed his
fingers. He positioned the blunt tip of
his arousal at the greasy entrance to Erestor�s body and pushed steadily until
he was fully sheathed.

Erestor, bent forward, face
pressed against the rumpled tablecloth, could do nothing but whimper as he was
breached. His fingers gripped the edge
of the table, his knuckles white, tensed against the pain. Glorfindel was not small, and the
preparation was barely adequate. Before
his body could fully adjust, Glorfindel withdrew and thrust forward again,
wringing a protracted moan from Erestor�s lips.

The sound seemed to break
through Glorfindel�s lust-haze, and he stopped his reckless thrusting. Mandos, what have I done? He thought,
distressed that he had lost control so easily, and so quickly. Ever so slowly, he withdrew slightly from
Erestor�s body, biting his lip at the pained sounds from his lover. Carefully he examined his shaft where it
pierced Erestor, checking for blood.
Seeing none, he heaved a sigh of relief.

He curved around Erestor�s
slender back and reached below, wrapping his fist around Erestor�s length, and
found that it had wilted from his discomfort.
�I am sorry, Erestor. �Twas not
my intent to harm you,� he said quietly, beginning long, slow strokes of the
flaccid flesh. �It has been a long time
for me, and I lost control. I will make
it good for you, I swear.�

Erestor nodded slightly and
closed his eyes, letting the warm, strong hand coax him back to full
hardness. At last, the gripping muscle
around Glorfindel�s cock loosened as Erestor�s channel finally adjusted, as he
surrendered the pleasure of Glorfindel�s pumping fist.

Glorfindel sensed his
partner�s readiness and finally began to move.
He shifted forward and gripped Erestor�s hips with both hands, silently
urging the dark Elf to raise his bottom a bit more, and adjusted his angle. As he began thrusting, the slightly changed
position caused his shaft to brush against Erestor�s prostate.

Growling, Glorfindel lunged
forward, impaling the pale figure over and over.
His thrusting became more
erratic as he neared climax.
Mesmerized, he could not tear his eyes from the sight of his own cock,
glistening from the greasy butter, disappearing repeatedly between the pale
curves of Erestor�s buttocks. It had
been so long since he had felt this � the blissful heat stretched around his
girth, the pooled warmth deep in the pit of his belly, spreading outward in
waves.

White heat consumed him, and
Glorfindel snarled with his release, filling Erestor�s passage with his milky
seed. He slumped over Erestor�s
trembling form and caught his breath, and as his heart slowed, he realized
belatedly that the dark Elf had not yet reached orgasm.

Tiny mewls escaped Erestor�s
mouth when Glorfindel pulled his softening shaft from Erestor�s body. Erestor remained sprawled across the table,
his anus red and raw, while a slow trickle of the Elda�s seed seeped from his
body. Weakly he attempted to stand, but
his legs were unsteady and would not hold him, and he fell forward again.

Glorfindel wiped himself
with the shirt he had cast off, and gently swabbed Erestor�s abraded bottom of
his essence, thankful there were no signs of blood. He threw the garment on the floor, and then helped Erestor to
stand up. As though the advisor weighed
no more than a child, Glorfindel picked him up, carried him through the door
into the bedroom, and tenderly laid him on the bed. You are so beautiful, Erestor, he thought. A feeling he had not experienced in Ages, or
ever thought to feel again, welled in his chest. If only you could believe I speak the truth.

Erestor moaned softly,
pumping his hips against the air. His
hand sought his erection, engorged still and dripping constantly, creating a
small pool of clear fluid on his taut stomach.
A cry escaped his lips as Glorfindel�s large, warm hand covered his own,
encouraging him to move. In unison they
stroked, until Erestor shuddered and bucked, coating their joined hands with
his pearly essence.

While Erestor lay spent, his
eyes glazed, Glorfindel stood and retrieved a warm, wet cloth from the bathing
chamber and wiped the flushed body clean.
Each finger was carefully cleansed of any trace of fluids. Finally he discarded the cloth on the floor,
then climbed onto the bed next to Erestor.
He lay down and pulled the darkling Elf near. �I am sorry if I hurt you, Erestor,� he said quietly.

Erestor mumbled drowsily, �I
am well, Glorfindel. Do not fear.�

�I am glad,� Glorfindel
smiled softly into Erestor�s raven mane.
The lovers rested together as their breathing slowed.

Glorfindel�s eyes began to
glaze in reverie, when Erestor�s quiet voice broke the silence.

�Glorfindel?�

�Mmmm?� the Elda responded
sleepily.

�I believe you.�

A tiny, tired smile graced
the Elda�s golden features. �Will you
stay with me tonight?� Glorfindel asked, sounding for all the world like a shy
youth and not a formidable, reborn warrior.

Erestor curled up on his
side and wrapped an arm around Glorfindel�s broad chest. �Aye, I will stay.�

TBC�
- 8
- 9
- 10
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Windows of the Soul