Yule Blessings

Yule Blessings

Posted: January 11, 2008
Title: Yule Blessings
Sequel to: A Perfect Yule
Author: LK
Type: FCS
Characters: Erestor/Glorfindel
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Don't own any, just playing; I'll put them back when I'm done. Okay, okay, here’s the formal blurb: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warnings: Slashy SMUT!
Authors Notes: This piece contains an homage to “Forbidden Fruit” by Eremir, which can be found at LibraryofMoria.com. It is a story I have read several times and like more and more each time.

Summary: Glorfindel and Erestor enjoy a Special Yule together

*****

Imladris, 145 TA

“I love you.”

“And I you, Erestor,” Glorfindel said as he tenderly stroked his husband’s cheek, brushing his tears away with his thumb.

“ . . . so very much.”

“I know, love. I can see that in the way you kept me alive in the Yule traditions you brought to this great haven,” Glorfindel said, his voice now the one that was raw with emotion. After a moment, when he was sure he had regained control, he continued, “Speaking of which . . . look up.”

Erestor managed to tear his gaze away from those amazing eyes he loved so much, to do as he was bid. He chuckled softly when he spied the sprig hanging above their heads.

“We must not break with tradition!” Glorfindel teased.

“Certainly not!” Erestor agreed as he wrapped his arms around his husband for the first time in over three thousand years and eagerly offered his lips.

They became so lost in one another that neither of them heard the twins when they cried, “ Ada! Uncle Fin’s kissin’ ‘Restor underneath the mistletoe!”

Elrond and Celebrían both laughed at not only their sons’ shocked expressions, but also those of everyone else within the room.

After more than thirty-five hundred years since the Fall of Gondolin, few refugees from the doomed city remained in Middle Earth. Of the precious few who survived the city’s fall, most had already sailed. Erestor was one of only a handful of Gondolin Elves living in Imladris. As a result, very few knew Erestor was bonded to the famed Balrog Slayer.

“All is well, my sons,” Elrond soothed his confused elflings as he and Celebrían approached the embracing couple. “Glorfindel is Erestor’s husband.”

“He is?” Elladan asked in an awed tone.

“When did they do that, Ada?” Elrohir’s voice squeaked a bit with his own shock.

Elrond smiled. “I will explain later. I believe Father Frost left each of you one more gift. I see two over there, peeking out beneath those drapes,” Elrond pointed to the final presents he and Celebrían had hidden, smiling as his sons instantly forgot all about Erestor and Glorfindel in the face of more presents.

“There will definitely be some explaining to . . .” Elrond began to say to Erestor and Glorfindel, breaking off mid-sentence when he turned to see they were still engaged in a heated embrace.

Elrond exchanged amused glances with his wife before trying again. “Glorfindel?”

No response.

“Erestor,” Celebrían called.

Nothing.

Becoming a bit uncomfortable when the passionately kissing couple continued to be oblivious, Elrond cleared his throat pointedly. Raising his voice a bit, he said, “Captain. Counselor.”

Instead of any kind of reply, hands began wandering in ways not suitable for public display, punctuated by loud groans. Celebrían and Elrond exchanged distressed glances as their discomfort started to grow into alarm.

When the pair began grinding their hips together, Celebrían gasped and raised a hand to her mouth as Elrond’s eyes grew round. All attempts at subtlety fled as he barked, “Glorfindel!”

That finally got their attention. Elrond closed his eyes momentarily and breathed a sigh of relief when the pair finally broke their kiss and ceased their exploration of each other mid-grope.

“Apologies, Elrond,” Erestor muttered, having the good grace to look sheepish.

Glorfindel, on the other hand, felt no need for expressions of regret and did not look the least bit sorry. “I am going to take my husband to bed now, Elrond. Will you give us your leave to be excused from the rest of the morning’s festivities?”

“Well, if I do not, I fear you will consummate your reunion right here on the floor!” the Peredhel admonished.

Glorfindel gave a short, scoffing laugh before he said, “Do not be silly, Elrond! The floor is much too cold . . . we would use one of the tables.”

The withering look Glorfindel received in response could have melted the paint from the walls, but the Balrog Slayer was unimpressed, particularly when his comment elicited a very unladylike snort of laughter from Celebrían. Without waiting for any further sort of dismissal, Glorfindel took Erestor’s hand, saying, “Come, my love.”

“I certainly hope so,” a grinning Erestor muttered just loud enough for the Elves in their vicinity to hear as he was pulled toward the door. Celebrían’s peel of laughter followed them as they hurried out.

Erestor was grateful for his concealing robes as they fled the gathering, but Glorfindel did nothing to hide his obvious state of arousal as he strode proudly from the room.

Once they reached the hall and were out of sight, without exchanging a word, they both broke into a run.

“My rooms,” Glorfindel said as they dashed through the corridors.

“Yes,” Erestor agreed, easily keeping up with his husband. “They are closer than mine.”

“I was thinking more that I have the bigger bed, but that is a good point,” Glorfindel replied with a wicked grin.

*****

The door was barely closed before they latched mouths together again, clawing at each other’s clothing as they made their way into Glorfindel’s bedroom.

When Erestor had first been invited into the newly-arrived Glorfindel’s room for a game of chess, he was offered a friendly tour of the Elf’s new home. Erestor had politely accepted, trying to hide his eagerness. He was curious about how his reborn husband would choose to live as a bachelor.

When he was led into the sleeping area, his mouth had dropped at the sight of the bed. Decadent, hedonistic and sensuous were only a few of the words Erestor could think of to describe the enormous piece of furniture. Every luscious type of texture imaginable dressed the bed, from satin and silk, to velvet and flossy fur. It practically beckoned any visitor to disrobe and slither amongst its many different shaped pillows and layered bedding. It was, in a word, erotic.

Erestor had wanted to ask what Glorfindel intended to do with the thing, but he was too fearful of the answer at the time, so kept his peace. Now, he knew exactly what use Glorfindel expected to make of the luxurious bed.

Erestor was unconcerned about the sound of fabric tearing and buttons being scattered, but when Glorfindel began tugging at the darkling’s tunic to lift it over his head, Erestor wrenched his mouth away from his husband’s lips and cried, “Wait!”

The golden Elf immediately froze, his face filled with concern, thinking he had hurt or frightened Erestor somehow. He instantly understood, however, when Erestor gently lifted the diamond-studded circlet from his golden head and carefully set it aside on the bureau. Just as cautiously, Glorfindel removed Erestor’s headdress and set it beside its mate, with one edge resting atop the other in an imitation of an embrace.

Glorfindel turned back toward his husband, his eyes dark with lust. With a hungry growl that was met by a needy groan, they set upon one another again, devouring each other’s mouths like they were starving, with teeth clashing and tongues dueling.

Pulling the last of their garments from each other’s bodies, they fell to the bed in a tumble of limbs. Frantically, they both caressed and tasted every inch of skin they could reach, grinding their groins together and eagerly sliding their hardened members against each other.

With a groan, Glorfindel rolled them both over so he could settle between Erestor’s legs and capture Erestor’s mouth once again with his own. They both started undulating their hips, emulating the act in which they were about to engage, both moaning at the delicious pleasure.

Glorfindel abandoned Erestor’s lips and began nipping and licking his way across his husband’s jaw until he reached an ear. He paused a moment to suckle on the tip, enjoying Erestor’s responding hiss of delight.

As the golden-haired Elf kissed his way down his body, Erestor used his elbows to crawl backwards into the middle of the enormous bed so they could avail themselves of its decadent splendor. Glorfindel followed him, unwilling to surrender the flesh upon which he was feasting. When they settled again, Glorfindel’s mouth continued its downward path.

The Balrog Slayer lingered at Erestor’s chest, playing first with one nipple, then the other. When he seemed to want to repeat his treatment of both tender nubs, Erestor decided he would rather have his husband’s attention focused on more southerly regions. Using his elbows again to slide backward on the soft furs and slippery satins, Erestor brought his groin even with Glorfindel’s mouth.

The blond grinned up at him wickedly, knowing exactly what his husband wanted. Without hesitation or making Erestor wait any longer, he swiftly obliged. Erestor collapsed back on the bed, gasping, desperately trying to regain control of himself as the wet heat of his beloved’s mouth enveloped him. Taking several steadying breathes, he finally felt in command of his body again.

Not to be outdone, Erestor decided his husband needed a little of the same treatment. Careful not to dislodge Glorfindel from his project, Erestor moved around the bed–once again grateful for the slick bedding that made his task easier–until he had full and unhindered access to the Balrog Slayer’s arousal.

He began by tormenting Glorfindel with his tongue, swirling it around the plum-colored head, and licking the rigid flesh. He shivered when Glorfindel groaned, the vibrations quivering up his own member, which Glorfindel was continuing to suck.

At Erestor’s response, Glorfindel repeated the sound, deliberately sending a frisson of sensation through the dark Elf’s shaft.

Erestor shuddered again, but was determined to have vengeance on his mate for teasing him. In retaliation, Erestor swallowed Glorfindel’s erection whole and sucked – hard!

Instantly letting Erestor’s erection fall from his lips, Glorfindel threw back his head, crying out; ending on a strained growl, he struggled to hold back his climax.

When he finally had himself contained, the tormented Elf pulled away and quickly rose from the bed.

“Fin?” Erestor’s hoarse cry followed him as he swiftly entered his bathing chamber.

“I am just getting something to ease our way. I cannot wait any longer,” he called back, his own voice husky with his passion. He searched among the bath oil containers, looking for one in particular. “Ah-ha!” he cried triumphantly when he found what he was hunting for.

With the finely crafted bottle in hand, he hurried back to the bed to kneel between Erestor’s thighs, which the dark Elf opened for him in invitation. Grinning wickedly, Glorfindel popped the stopper on the bottle, waiting for the aroma to reach his husband’s sensitive nose and watched for his reaction.

He was not disappointed.

Erestor’s head shot up when the fragrance reached him. His mouth opened as his breathing hitched and sped up.

Glorfindel laughed seductively when pearly drops began weeping from Erestor’s already straining arousal.

“ Oranges!” the dark Elf gasped.

Glorfindel did not bother to reply. Instead, he dipped his finger into the bottle, coating it with the fine oil.

Not needing any explanation of his husband’s purpose, Erestor eagerly lifted his legs to expose his puckered opening. When Glorfindel gently caressed then circled his entrance with the slick finger, Erestor sighed in pleasure. As the digit penetrated him, wiggling a bit to titillate and coax the sensitive opening, Erestor’s eyes rolled back in his head and he flopped back down on the bed, moaning at the exquisite sensation.

Mindful that more than three thousand years had passed since the last time they had joined their bodies, Glorfindel carefully and thoroughly prepared his husband’s body for penetration. Using the fruit-scented oil liberally, he gently stretched Erestor’s opening, inserting one finger at a time, scissoring them and manipulating Erestor’s entrance until the dark Elf was nearly mad with need.

When the Counselor lifted his head and growled, “Enough! I am ready!” Glorfindel grinned with satisfaction. Giving in to Erestor’s obvious desire to be filled, he poured a generous amount of oil into his palm and coated his aching member, groaning not only at the sensation, but also in anticipation of burying himself in Erestor’s silken heat.

Positioning himself between Erestor’s thighs, he held himself up on his arms so they could both see the point where their bodies were about to be joined. It was their shared enjoyment to watch the enticing view of Glorfindel’s member, glistening with oil, as it sank slowly into Erestor’s body.

Inch by inch, the Balrog Slayer reclaimed what was his, savoring the tightness enveloping him as he penetrated his husband’s fluttering channel.

Sinking into the slicked passage to the hilt, Glorfindel groaned as he was gently squeezed by his husband’s tight glove. Listening with a practiced ear as Erestor breathed deeply to relax his muscles and allow his body to adjust to the invasion, the golden-haired Elf knew exactly when Erestor was ready for him to move.

Slowly, Glorfindel withdrew from his husband’s body until he was nearly pulled out completely. When just the head of his throbbing member remained encased in that welcoming warmth, Glorfindel plunged back in, both of them crying out at the exquisite pleasure.

Unerringly hitting Erestor’s prostate with every other stroke, Glorfindel repeated the action time and again until neither of them could bear the slow torture any longer.

Pumping his hips faster, Glorfindel thrust powerfully into Erestor’s body. Feeling Erestor’s copiously leaking arousal mashed between their bodies, he was assured that the dark Elf’s member was getting enough friction.

Erestor started clutching at his back in a way that Glorfindel knew meant his husband was about to climax. Taking his cue, the Balrog Slayer frantically pistoned his hips until his mate cried out with abandon as he toppled over the edge, coming hard. When Erestor’s channel began pulsing, Glorfindel thrust once, twice more, before giving a mighty roar as he reached his own bone-shattering completion.

The warrior collapsed onto his lover. They lay, still joined, as they rode out the aftershocks of their orgasms and relished the sweet sensations that continued to thrum through them.

Glorfindel’s softening organ finally slipped from Erestor’s body, but still neither felt any desire to move. Eventually, though, the need to take a full breath compelled Erestor to stir. Without being told, Glorfindel knew what his husband needed and obligingly moved to the side. Erestor turned so they were facing one another. They merely gazed at each other, sated and sleepy, each thoroughly enjoying his mate’s debauched appearance.

“ Orange scented oil?” Erestor finally asked with a lifted eyebrow.

Glorfindel chuckled as he said, “I was at the local market one day and came upon a merchant selling bath oils. More for something to do rather than out of any real interest, I started sniffing some of them. When the aroma of oranges wafted up from one of the bottles, I was suddenly overcome with the need to purchase it. I had not a care at its cost, much to the merchant’s delight.” With a satisfied smirk, he continued, “Now I understand why I was so fascinated. I suppose that, deep down, a part of me recalled how erotic you always found the scent of oranges to be.”

They laughed together, both completely delighted with the story and each other. After a moment, though, their humor faded. Gazing deeply into each other’s eyes once more, they were content merely to bask in their love for one another.

When Erestor’s eyes became shadowed, though, Glorfindel raised a hand to stroke his husband’s cheek.

“What is it, love?” he whispered.

“I was beginning to think you would never regain your memories,” Erestor replied, his voice heavy with emotion.

“Shh,” Glorfindel cooed. “All is well now. I am here, and you will never be alone again.”

Erestor covered the blond’s hand with is own before turning his head to place a gentle kiss on his husband’s palm.

Glorfindel stroked the ruby lips with his thumb as he said, “It must have been very hard for you after my death–having to go on without me. I am sorry for dying and leaving you, but I am not sorry you survived.”

“I do not wish to think about it. Even if you had never remembered me–or us–I still would have been grateful just to have you back among the living.”

Glorfindel frowned slightly as he considered the question he had been wanting to ask since the previous evening when his memories had returned. “Your actions over the last months make sense to me now. But, Erestor, why did you not say something? It must have been excruciating to keep silent all these months. And Elrond–obviously, he knew our history. Why did no one tell me?”

“Elrond was concerned it would be too much of a shock if your memories were forced on you,” Erestor said softly, the pain and frustration his silence had caused were drawn on his face as he reflected back. After a moment, though, he smiled. “Elrond cautioned against it, but I was planning to give you only another few weeks before taking matters into my own hands and start to woo and court you.”

Glorfindel opened his mouth to reply, but whatever comment he was about to make was interrupted by the sound of two laughing elflings running passed Glorfindel’s balcony. The lovers paused, listening to the sound of crunching snow beneath the younglings’ boots and their father’s playful cry of “I will get you back for that, Elladan!”

Erestor laughed, “I wager Elladan got Elrond squarely with a snowball.”

At the sound of a female voice shrieking, “Elrohir!” Erestor laughed harder and said, “And Elrohir managed to dump snow down Celebrían’s back.”

“This has happened before, I take it?” Glorfindel asked, smiling at his husband’s amusement.

“Oh, yes!” Erestor said between gales of laughter. “It is a Yuletide tradition in Imladris, along with making snow creatures, eating cookies and drinking hot apple cider with peppermint sticks in them.”

Glorfindel rolled Erestor onto his back and settled over him to kiss him tenderly before saying, “It sounds delightful. We never had snow in Gondolin, but I am up for starting new traditions.”

Neither could help the sheer happiness that bubbled up, nor did they want to try. Laughing together, they both rose and quickly dressed in warm clothing, Glorfindel having more than enough to share with his mate. Erestor was only slightly smaller than his husband, but it was nothing a more tightly cinched belt or rolled up cuff could not remedy.

Soon, they were wrapped in cloaks, scarves and gloves. Their booted feet pounded down the hallway, their laughter echoing after them, as they ran hand in hand toward the gardens where the Peredhel and his family were playing.

Upon entering the garden, they hushed each other even as they continued to laugh. Quietly creeping toward the sound of a fierce snow battle, they espied the backs of their Lord and Lady as the pair dueled with their sons, first throwing snowballs then dodging the surprisingly accurate counterattacks.

With silent snickers, Erestor and Glorfindel both bent to scoop up hand fulls of snow to mold into balls. Shortly, they had a respectable supply of frozen ammunition piled between them. The next time Elrond and Celebrían stood to lob another round at their sons, the reunited lovers also stood and, with dual battle cries, fired well-aimed snowballs at their backs. The assaulted pair turned in shock, but quickly sought cover in the face of their new opponents.

The Twins, thinking that allies had come to their aid, cried out with glee and ran toward the newest soldiers in their snow wars. When they found themselves being pelted with snowballs, however, the elflings realized they had merely acquired new enemies and quickly began an attack of their own.

Erestor and Glorfindel found themselves locked in combat with opponents on two fronts and could not have been happier about it.

Hours later, after engaging in two indecisive battles, making several snow creatures, and conducting an impromptu sledding competition, six cold, snow caked Elves returned to the Last Homely House.

Erestor and Glorfindel were both still sporting red noses and rosy cheeks as they sat at the great hearth in the Hall of Fire with Elrond and his family. They had mugs of hot cider with peppermint sticks in hand and the remains of a casual repast sitting on a low table between them when Celebrían rose with a sleeping Elrohir in her arms. This time, when Glorfindel offered to assist her, Celebrían gratefully allowed him to take the sleeping elfling and carry him to bed for her.

The early start to the day, combined with robust play outdoors, and general making merry throughout the day had tired most of the elflings; the adults were similarly worn out. So, like the evening before, the Hall of Fire began to empty as happy families sought their own homes and beds, and the candles illuminating the room were extinguished by the yawning servants. Only the soft light of the crackling fire remained.

Erestor gave a contented sigh as silence began to fall over the great hall. Walking over to the glass doors leading out into the garden, he stood contemplating the drifting snowflakes on the other side of the panes as he waited for his husband to return.

He was just considering how, just the previous evening, he had been standing in the very same spot in a totally different frame of mind, when a pair of arms wrapped around him from behind.

“Beautiful, is it not?” Glorfindel said softly, knowing he had not startled the other. He could never sneak up on Erestor–his husband always sensed him.

“Yes, it is,” Erestor replied quietly, sighing deeply as if emerging from deep thought.

Kissing Erestor’s cheek, the golden-haired Elf said, “Come share a goblet of mulled wine with me, Erestor. There is still some left by the fire.”

Silently, Erestor nodded and turned from the window.

Like the previous night, soon they were settled, wine in hand. This time, however, they sat together on a settee cuddling in the dim light, watching the snow drift down beyond the window opposite them. They sat that way for a time, content to be together in companionable silence as the snowflakes danced.

Suddenly, Glorfindel gave a startled little gasp, prompting Erestor to look up at him in question.

Answering the unspoken inquiry, he said, “I just realized that it is our anniversary!”

Erestor gave a gentle smile, saying, “Hmm. So it is.

“I also just realized,” Glorfindel went on, his brow now furrowed a bit with concern, “I did not get you a gift for Yule.”

Patting his lover’s hand, Erestor reassured him. “‘Tis alright, Fin. I do not need one. I have been granted a blessing far better than any other gift I could receive.

Erestor canted his head up to look at his husband with a smile, which was answered in kind.

Glorfindel did not need any explanation of the comment, he understood exactly what his husband meant. Leaning down, the reborn Elf chastely kissed Erestor’s soft lips. “Happy Yule, beloved,” he said softly.

“Yes,” Erestor said with a contented sigh as he rested his head on his husband’s strong shoulder, “It certainly is.”

*****

THE END

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