Fate's
Mirror
Part 29
Posted: March 2004
Author: Larien Elengasse
*****
March 3434, Second Age, Last Homely House, Imladris
Glorfindel's eyes snapped open and a gasp escaped his
lips. He lifted the covers to find his betrothed nestled between his thighs.
Erestor's head rested upon his hip, the advisor's left hand
tucked snugly between his buttocks and the bed, his right drawing patterns
in the soft hair that grew about his arousal. A broad smile curved his ample
lips and he moaned softly, settling back against the soft bedding and stretching
his arms over his head, his fingers curling around their iron headboard.
"Mmm, ervainen vorn," he purred, "what a
wonderful way to greet the dawn."
Erestor chuckled softly, his warm breath fluttering along
the Elda's swelling length. "Yes it is, melethron. I could remain
here all day."
Glorfindel laughed softly then uttered a soft "Ah!"
as Erestor's index finger traced the vein that ran the length of his
arousal. "Mmm… please, do not stop, pen-vain."
"Gods how I love to hear you beg, Glorfindel," Erestor answered huskily.
Glorfindel smiled wickedly and answered, "Do you now,
pen-rhovan?"
"Yes, I do…" Erestor growled seductively.
"Iqista, melendonya…" Glorfindel purred.
Erestor moaned, the sound of his lover's voice speaking
the forbidden tongue always drove him mad with want. He shifted so that
he lay directly between Glorfindel's parted thighs, propped up on
his elbows. He took a deep breath as he watched his lover bend his knees
and spread his legs further apart, wantonly offering himself to him. His
fingers caressed Glorfindel's swollen, moist sex, spreading the moisture
that leaked from the tip along his length, the Elda's needful moans
fanning the flames of his own burning desire. He trailed hot, wet kisses
along the insides of the warrior's thighs, watching him arch and undulate
beneath him. Glorfindel's proud length now stood against his stomach,
weeping and twitching with need.
Erestor lowered his mouth to the soft pouch that lay nestled
between his lover's legs, first lapping at it with his tongue, then
taking its entirety into his mouth. The plaintive cry that escaped his lover's
lips caused him to moan deeply. Glorfindel's pleading words were coming
with greater intensity, the old language of their homeland falling from
his lips with unpracticed ease.
"Yé, melda, maurinyel, merinyel…"
Glorfindel pleaded. "Gods, Erestor, you drive me mad."
Erestor removed his mouth from the now hardened pouch of flesh,
traveling lower to circle his lover's entrance with his tongue. He
could feel the need in Glorfindel's body, it was drawn tight like
a bowstring, his thighs quivered, his back arched, he was transformed by
his need and desire into a wanton, beautiful picture of pure sensuality.
"A tul, vanima," he whispered, "Come for
me…" He thrust his tongue inside his lover's writhing
body, Glorfindel's keening cry causing his own arousal to twitch beneath
him. He felt his lover's body tighten as he arched, his back coming
off the bed as his warm essence spilled over his stomach. He withdrew his
tongue, moving to lap the slick essence of his lover from his stomach.
Glorfindel whimpered quietly; he was trembling uncontrollably,
his release achieved, but his desire not abated. The Elda groaned as slick
fingers replaced his lover's tongue, Erestor's assault on his
senses not pausing. Immediately his length began to pulsate again and he
rolled his hips up into his lover, thrusting his still erect length into
Erestor's chest.
"Take me, Erestor," he whispered.
Erestor smiled and brought his lips to those of his lover. "I intend to," he whispered against Glorfindel's waiting
lips. He claimed his lover's mouth with a fierce intensity, moaning
into the kiss as he plundered the depths of Glorfindel's mouth with
his tongue. He rolled to the side and he reached down, taking his own arousal
in his free hand and stroking it slowly, rubbing his thumb over the head
and spreading his essence along his length. The fingers of his other hand
were still buried in the body of his lover as he prepared him. He curled
one finger and found his target, earning another keening cry from Glorfindel
as the Elda arched beneath him.
Glorfindel gripped the iron headboard in his fists, his heart
was racing and he panted for air, a thin sheen of sweat forming on his skin.
Each time Erestor touched that place inside him he felt as though he would
burst, tears of love and need began to trickle from his eyes and he whispered
words of love to his betrothed. His eyelids fluttered as Erestor gathered
his thighs in his arms and he felt the tip of his lover's arousal
at his entrance. He groaned as Erestor sheathed himself inside his body,
filling him, stretching him beyond comprehension. He willed himself to relax
and began to ride his lover's length as it slid in and out of his
body.
As Erestor took his swollen length in his hand, Glorfindel
moaned plaintively, breathless, pleading words falling from his lips. It
was in these moments, when he was consumed by love and desire for the one
whom was most precious to him that he felt whole. His release came like
a great wave, washing over him, consuming him and leaving him spent. Erestor's
came close behind, his lover's deep groan echoing in his ears as he
felt his warm essence spill inside him.
Erestor collapsed upon his chest, his head resting in the
crook of his shoulder. He smiled and brought his hands down to stroke his
lover's back and his raven hair.
"Melanyel, Erestor," he whispered into his betrothed's
hair.
"Melanyel, Glorfindel," Erestor replied blissfully.
They lay together quietly before slowly rising and slipping
into the bath together.
* * * *
Elrond sat on the low bench in the private corner of his garden.
Celebrían was resplendent in the soft light of dawn, her hair shimmered
and her skin glowed. They had grown very close over the years she had remained
in Imladris, and now they would have to part. She looked at the ground,
her soft flaxen hair falling around her face like a veil of pale gold; her
sapphire eyes shining with unshed tears. Her pink lips trembled occasionally
as she fought not to weep, and the sight of it nearly cleaved Elrond's
heart in two.
"I am afraid, Elrond," she whispered. "I
am afraid I will never see you again."
Elrond smiled gently and raised her chin, turning her heartbreaking
gaze to his own. "Fear not, elril, I will return to you, that I promise."
She shook her head, her pale gold locks swinging about her
shoulders. "You cannot promise me that, for none of us know what may
come of this."
He nodded slowly, a gentle smile curving his full lips. "You
are too wise for platitudes, my lady. I should know better than to try to
comfort you with them."
She laughed softly, wiping at her eyes as she smiled at him. "Yes you should," she chided gently. Her expression grew serious
and she took his hands in her own. "I will wait for you to return,
for you are my Lord. I will take no other in your place."
Elrond leaned forward slightly and softly spoke, "Do
you mean what I hope you to mean, my lady?"
She smiled and nodded. "Yes, I do. You are my pen-muin,
you are the Lord of my heart."
Elrond took her in his arms and held her tight. "Long
have I yearned to hear these words from you, pen-vain. They will sustain
me through the trials I must endure."
"Mellon le, Elrond," she whispered into his ear.
"Mellon le, Celebrían, Lady of my heart," he replied softly.
* * * *
Galadriel stood beside her only child, her arm around Celebrían's
shoulder. So many noble elves and men were departing, and they stood upon
the steps of the courtyard saying farewell to them. Her own husband rode
with them; Celeborn had never looked more handsome or regal, adorned in
pale blue and bright silver armor. Gil-galad and Elrond rode beside him,
followed by Elendil and Isildur, then Glorfindel and Erestor. The glint
of mithril caught her eye and she saw the bands that Glorfindel and Erestor
wore upon their left hands. She smiled and was glad they had gone ahead
and bonded, even if not in the presence of their friends. Glorfindel had
asked her advice, and she had answered that the only witnesses that mattered
were the Valar.
"May the Valar protect you and keep you safe,"
she said softly as the warriors turned their horses, and she and Celebrían
raised their hands in farewell. She felt her daughter's pain at watching
Elrond leave; it mirrored her own at watching her beloved husband ride into
such peril.
Celeborn smiled knowingly and raised his hand in farewell
to his beautiful wife and daughter before he turned and rode through the
gates. Elrond nodded to his beautiful Celebrían, no words were needed
to convey the depth of love he felt for her.
Celebrían ran to the gate as the last horse passed
through, her hand still held high as she waived farewell. She watched as
they were swallowed by the larger host that rode with them and they faded
into the horizon, only clouds of dust were left to mark their passing.
* * * *
March 3434, Second Age, border of Greenwood along the banks
of the Anduin.
Thranduil awoke as he felt the soft lips of his love upon his shoulder blade.
He blinked back from reverie to see it was still dark. A breeze ruffled
the boughs of the trees overhead and he rolled over to look into Gildor's
smiling face.
"Time to wake, melethen," Gildor whispered softly.
"Anor will rise soon, the host of Amdír should be arriving
anytime."
Thranduil nodded and sat up, rubbing his face as the blanket
pooled around his waist. Gildor sat back on his heels and looked at his
beautiful lover. His golden hair was tossed about his shoulders, his muscled
chest so perfectly sculpted from the years of battle and training. Every
time he looked at Thranduil, he felt his breath stolen from him, he knew
he would never tire of watching him wake. He reached out and touched him,
his hand caressing one perfect pectoral muscle. His knuckles grazed one
flawless, amber nipple and he watched it harden beneath his touch. He turned
his eyes up to gaze into his lover's and he saw the mischievous grin
that curved Thranduil's lips.
"You are wicked, Gildor," Thranduil chided. "You
should not tease me thus."
Gildor smiled and nodded. "I know, but I cannot help
myself, melethen. It has been so long since I have tasted your sweet flesh,
so long since I have heard you sigh into my ear," he whispered.
Thranduil furrowed his brow and whispered in reply, "Nay,
has been but two nights, since we left my home."
Gildor shrugged. "Two nights, two years, two ages… ‘tis all the same, every moment without you in my arms feels like
eternity." He sighed, the back of his hand still grazing over his
lover's pebbled nipple. "I should like to give you something,
seron vell," he whispered.
Thranduil reached out and cupped the Noldo's cheek in
his hand. "What would that be, melethron?" he whispered sultrily.
"A ring," Gildor answered. He reached inside his
breast pocket and withdrew a small ring of mithril. "I have been carrying
this with me for quite sometime," he continued. "It is a token
of my affection for you."
Thranduil took the ring from him and held it up. "'Tis
very small, much too small for my finger." He cocked an eyebrow. "Where
do you propose I wear this ring, meleth?"
Gildor smiled wickedly and gave his right nipple a pinch. "I thought here would be a nice place."
Thranduil gasped and caught his lover's hand, pinning
it against his chest. "You did, did you?" he responded coyly.
Gildor nodded and mumbled, "Umhm…" Gildor
pulled his hand away and brushed his lips against the hardened nub. "Think
of it as a right of passage," he whispered playfully before drawing
the pebbled nipple between his lips.
Thranduil moaned quietly, letting his head fall back as he
pressed his chest to his lover's mouth. "I noticed you do not
have one… ah! Anywhere on your… oh Gods… body…" he breathed.
Gildor withdrew his mouth and brought his lips to his lover's. "I would wear one for you, ernilen," he answered seductively.
Thranduil whispered into Gildor's mouth, "I am
hardly able to refuse you then, am I?" He tangled his hands in Gildor's
hair as he pressed a bruising kiss to his lover's mouth.
* * * *
Thranduil marched beside Gildor at the head of the column
of Greenwood elves. Oropher marched opposite his son, next to Amdír.
Thranduil shrugged his shoulders and tugged at the right side of his tunic,
wincing slightly as Gildor flashed a wicked grin. He looked over at his
father, relieved Oropher did not notice his momentary discomfort.
"It will not hurt…" he grumbled to himself.
"Did you say something, Iôn?" Oropher questioned.
"No, Adar," he answered innocently. His eyes widened
as he felt his lover's hand cup his buttocks briefly and he looked
at Gildor with narrowed eyes.
Gildor chuckled and marched on, his eyes watching the trees
and hills around them.
Ervainen vorn = my dark beautiful one
Melethron = my lover
Pen-vain = beautiful one
Pen-rhovan = wild one
Iqista, melendonya = please lover (Quenya)
Yé, melda, maurinyel, merinyel = Yes, beloved, I need you, I want
you (Quenya)
A tul, vanima = Come, beautiful one (Quenya)
Melanyel = I love you (Quenya)
Elril = bright star
Pen-muin = dear one
Melon le = I love thee
Melethen = my love
Seron vell = dear lover
Meleth = love
Ernilen = my Prince
*****
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