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Perhaps...	By : rigby Category: -Multi-Age > Het - Male/Female Views: 1348 -:- 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.

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- 1
Title: Perhaps�
Type: FPS
Author: Vair� (vaire@donnesys.com)
Rating: NC17

Pairings:
Glorfindel/Mandos/??? You decide who the
third character is. There wasn�t a content code that exactly matches the story,
so I picked some that could match. You�ll understand if you read.
Disclaimer: I
worship at the JRRT altar. I make no money from this, so don�t bother to
sue�you�ll only get hairballs the cat hacked up.

Summary: An elf reminisces on a secret liaison that lasted centuries. An
idea that popped into my mind this morning, that the muse insisted I write down
before he would help me with more Dark Journey. Gotta love an arrogant muse�
Posting: Please ask
first.
Feedback: Much
appreciated. I enjoy discussing my stories with others and I would enjoy
hearing your ideas on the identity of the one telling the story. All flames
will be gleefully passed along to the dragons for their fiery consumption.

Perhaps�

Perhaps some things should remain unspoken, known only to
those involved. Perhaps there are secrets that should lie in shadow, uncovered for
eternity. I carry the memory of one such thing. None have heard so much as a
whisper of it and though it happened to me, I understand not all of it. The two
who share this thing with me understand all, perhaps some day I shall too.
Perhaps they shall tell me what I never asked, though centuries passed. Perhaps�

Some three years before the first time, Glorfindel and I
became lovers. We were content, both emotionally and in particular physically,
for the golden warrior was as demanding and ardent lover as I.

Despite the centuries that have passed, I remember the first
time as if it returned to life around me.

Naked and aroused, I stretched on the satin cover, awaiting
Glorfindel. I wanted to writhe, to explore with my hands, to feel oiled skin
and taut muscles, to watch the anticipatory shivers that raced over my body.
But no, Glorfindel had commanded me to prepare myself, then
await him, and I would obey, allowing my desire and tension to build.

Glorfindel entered our room, a length of black fabric dangling
from one hand.

I cocked my head to one side. A blindfold?
We had used them before. I rather liked them, liked the heightened perceptions
that accompanied the loss of one sense, the thrill of losing some part of
control.

�You know my feelings for you.�

I nodded, suddenly cautious. Was this where Glorfindel told
me our relationship no longer interested him, that he no longer desired me?
Nay, it couldn�t be. I knew my feelings for him, and I did not doubt his for
me. Why the need to reassure me?

Crawling onto the mattress, Glorfindel knelt beside me. He
wet his lips, looking unsure, something I had never seen before. �Long and long
ago, I entered into an agreement with another.� A faint shake of his head
denied my rising trepidation. �Nay, not a bond, nor a
relationship such as ours, nor that of a lord and liege. It is one of a
debt owed, and freely paid to help relieve another�s suffering.�

�And this one you owe the debt to has
called for you to repay it?�

�Nay, the debt has long been repaid. What I do now, I do as
a friend though perhaps I overreach when I name myself such. No more may I say
of those involved and their reasons. Rather, I ask that you do something for
me�a great thing, one that shall require complete trust on your part.�

Captivated, and alarmed, by the intensity in his voice and
the torment in his eyes, I rolled onto my side and curled around him. What, I wondered, could he ask of me that could be so terrible? I
swallowed hard. �What is this great thing that you ask of me?�

His gaze never left mine as he replied. �I ask that you lay
with another, that you submit to him completely.�

I waited, but Glorfindel offered no explanation.

Blood thundered in my ears. I could hardly believe the words.
My love wanted me to submit sexually to another? He wanted another to know my
body? To explore it, rouse it, bring me pleasure�or would it not be my
pleasure? Would I be only the instrument of another�s pleasure? And Glorfindel
asked this of me?

�What of us?� I loathed the uncertainty in my voice.

�What I ask changes nothing between us. I am yours and you
are mine.�

�Yet you ask that I submit to another, that he touch me,
penetrate me, release his seed in me. How can this be?
How can this not matter to you? How can you use me in this manner?�

�I ask because I must�because I offer my greatest treasure,
for only that is worthy of him.� His hand cupped the side of my face. �I shall
not force you to this, lirimaer. If you refuse, I shall never mention this
again.�

�And what shall happen? What of your debt and this
mysterious being?�

A gentle smile graced his fair face. �The debt is paid. What
I do now, I do out of love.�

�For him or for me?�

�For both.�

Valar help me, I agreed. I allowed him to bind my eyes and
drank a liquid he said would make me unaware until the other arrived. Shivering
in mingled fear and anticipation, I listened to his voice growing fainter and
fainter as blackness crept up on me, telling me of his love for me, his need
for me. And I believed him. Valar help me, I believed him.

Black darkness. Velvet covered
hands stroked over my body. Strong, long fingered hands that
claimed me as they touched me. Glorfindel, I thought. �Tis my lover and some game of his. But nay, I knew it
was not. The scent of his body was different as was the tempo of his touches.

As if sensing my returning awareness, the pressure of his
hands increased. Even in my dazed state, my body began to respond to the
demands of those velvet fingers. I wriggled and felt more velvet under me,
cushioning me, caressing, coaxing my arousal. With a growl akin to that of a
starving wolf, he parted my thighs and thrust into me with one hard stroke. The
pain of that rough claiming shattered my dream-like state and I cried out, my
back arching.

Whoever he was, he rode me relentlessly, evincing no care
for my pain as I writhed beneath him, sobbing and pleading brokenly. On and on
he pounded into me, bruising my flesh, rubbing it raw. Again and again, I felt
the full length and girth of him sheathed within my body.

Agony. Pain.
Fear.

As it always has with me, pleasure began to mingle with the
pain, drawn from me by my helplessness, his dominance, the totality of my
surrender to him.

Pleasure muted the pain, blending with it until they were
inseparable for me. My cries changed to moans, to wordless pleas for more
dominance, more pain, more pleasure. My body was the
vehicle for his pleasure and he used it masterfully, drawing feelings and
emotions from me as searing and intense as any Glorfindel had ever elicited.

My orgasm burst through me. His movements held me there,
creating wave after wave of pleasure washing through my shuddering body until I
cried for mercy. Only then, when I gave up the last shred of
my dignity and begged, did he thrust savagely into me and allow his own body
release.

Hot, salty tears fell on my cheek and shoulder as he
collapsed atop me. Those velvet hands stroked me soothingly, as I would quiet a
nervous colt, and he pulled his flesh from mine, causing me to whimper in pain.
He wrapped me in strong arms and cradled me to him. I sighed, relaxing into his
embrace. Exhaustion overwhelmed me and I drifted into oblivion, my last
awareness the feel of him cocooning me in velvet.

I knew he would call for me again. And I knew that I would
allow Glorfindel to bind my eyes without fear, and that I would travel again to
that velvet place and submit my very f�a to him.

And so it was. Years passed. Imladris rose under Elrond�s
guidance. Laurelind�renan faded, whilst the legend of
the Lady of the Wood grew. The Atani multiplied. Battles were won and lost. Rohan rose in the southern grasslands. The Istari came among us. The Ruling Ring was found�and Sauron destroyed. A king sat on Gondor�s
throne once more.

Still the years passed, and the summons came from time to
time. My lord Glorfindel would enter our chambers with a length of black satin
to bind my eyes and I would know that my dark lover waited.

Never, after the first time did I fear him. Ai, our coupling
was brutal, a great hunger driving him, and I would be raw and sore for some
days. But always, after sating his need, he would weep and stroke me with those
velvet gloves, silently worshipping my body and thanking me. Always gentle. Always comforting. And always, he would wrap me in the
velvet upon which we coupled and I would drift into nothingness, until I woke
once again in my love�s arms, his golden presence holding me safe.

The ritual never varied, and I cared for my unknown lover,
but cared not of his race nor name nor anything else except that I was the one
that succored him and provided the release he sought. And that my acceptance of
what was asked of me pleased my love. Never did Glorfindel speak openly of it;
there was no need. By touch and look and deed, he thanked me. Words would have
been a debasement of the pact that existed among the three of us.

I expected it would never change�and then it did.

Awareness returned as always, with Glorfindel�s
arms holding me and his scent filling my nostrils. Blinking, I looked up, expecting to see his blue eyes gazing at me, but his
attention was focused elsewhere.

�This is your chosen.� The voice was deep, rich in timbre,
redolent of age and the knowledge of mysteries.

�Still, my lord,� Glorfindel responded.

A sigh. �Then �tis time.�

Glorfindel�s gaze turned to me.
�Lirimaer.� A hand brushed my hair back.

He said no more, but I knew what he wanted. I must rise and
turn and see the truth of my unknown lover, the one who had known my body for
centuries. Was I afraid? Did I want the knowledge of his identity? I knew not.
I could not untangle the jumble of emotions that swept over me. I rose before
my thoughts paralyzed me. It mattered not whether I desired this knowledge�they
desired it and, for me, that was enough.

Dark. He stood dark and slender
before me, shadows partially hiding his face. Vaguely, I recognized that we
were in the place where he had taken me so many times, the same velvet fabric
underfoot. Eyes sparkling with mirth regarded me from beneath an unlined brow.
He was not Firstborn. Nor was he Atani. Nor any being
that I recognized.

Falling to my knees, I bowed my head, offering my submission
to him. It was not entirely my idea; my body shook, and my muscles would not
answer my commands.

Vala.

My unknown lover was a Vala. How
it was that he took physical form to couple with me, I knew not, but I knew it
was he.

Glorfindel�s body skimmed mine as
he moved beside me. �My lord Mandos, I thank thee for this gift.�

�Nay,� Mandos waved a hand negligently. �Long ago, I should
have ceased the use of your beloved that you might bond, but,� his lips twisted
in a delightfully wicked smile, �I much enjoyed our coupling. None have sated
me so well, nor near so fully. Truth, had you not
served me long and well, I would not release you from your pledge and you
should still be oath-bound to supply one to slake my physical desires.�

Uncontrollably, I shivered. Glorfindel had sworn an oath to
supply Mandos a�a�physical accommodation? How many had served before me? Were
there others even now? Had there been others since the first time I submitted
to Mandos?

As if hearing my unspoken questions, Mandos stepped close. �No, lirimaer. There have been none since you�neither for myself
nor for Glorfindel. Nor shall there be another for Glorfindel or for you,
should you agree to bind your f�ar.�

�And for you?� Somehow the words
force themselves past my frozen lips.

�We shall see, pen neth, but now my
time in this incarnation grows short.�

Glorfindel clasped my right hand with his and drew us
together. Head bowing, he spoke the words that gave his f�a to mine. I repeated
them, offering everything that I was to him. Mandos�Valar, child of Eru, my dark lover�pronounced the words that completed the
ritual and bound our f�ar to each other beyond death, to the end of Arda.

When awareness returned to me, Glorfindel and I clung to
each other. We stood again in our own rooms�alone. Mandos had returned to his
Halls.

Never since have I seen the Doomsman
of the Valar, nor have we spoken of our relationship with him, but at times,
when Ithil rises, I look to the west and wonder if
perhaps the time will come when we take the Straight Road and leave the Bent World
and so come at last to Tol Eress�a
and the Undying Lands. Perhaps then, I shall sit with my
golden warrior and the dark Vala, and we shall speak.

Perhaps�

finis
- 1
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Perhaps�