Glorfindel's First Love

Posted: June 2003
Title: Glorfindel's First Love
Series: Perfect Love
Author: Larien Elengasse
Type: FCS, M/M Slash
Characters: Glorfindel/Turgon
Rating: NC-17
Beta: Alex
WARNING: This story is rated NC-17 and contains male slash pairings and explicit sexual content. If you find this offensive, or you are under-age, I strongly suggest you stop now.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they are the property of Tolkien.
Summary/Notes: Set prior to the fall of Gondolin. A precursor to Perfect Fit.

*****

June 16, 458, First Age, Ondolindë (Gondolin)

Glorfindel sat on the wall of the fountain, leaning back on his hands, his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, soaking up the sun. It was a beautiful warm summer day and a light wind ruffled the flags upon the tower. A smile crossed the young Elf Lord's lips as he listened to the banners flapping in the breeze and the sound of birds singing as they glided upon the wind. He relished moments like this for he knew war was coming; he could feel it in his bones. He was young still, past his majority, but not yet an adult in some senses of the word. He had performed several deeds of errantry for his King and fought valiantly in battle. He was already head of his house, his elder kin falling into shadow before him, and there were many who wished to woo him, male and female alike. Glorfindel was a true beauty, tall and strong, he moved with grace and agility, was deadly with a sword, and devastatingly handsome. His long, golden locks flowed about his shoulders in shimmering waves and his eyes were a deep cobalt blue, like the clear flowing waters of the river Sirion. He had a quiet elegance about him, thoughtful in his speech, and kind with his words. He still possessed a youthful optimism that was rare even among Elves. Glorfindel always believed that things would work out as they should, if one only had the patience to wait.

Elves mulled about the outdoor court, the fountains were a popular place on warm days, and the soft musical sounds of their speech mixed in with the sounds of the birds and the flags blowing above. He heard the rustle of fabric as someone took their place beside him, but he did not open his eyes, preferring to enjoy the moment.

"Mae Govannen, Glorfindel. It is a beautiful afternoon, is it not?"

The deep voice caused his eyes to snap open as he sat up and met the pale blue gaze of his King. He leapt to his feet, dropping to one knee and bowing his head, "My Lord, begging your pardon, I did not realize it was you who sat beside me." It was a rarity to find Turgon walking amongst his people in such a casual manner.

Turgon regarded the young Glorfindel with some amusement, he was always so eager to please him, so wanting to prove himself. The King smiled, placing his hand upon his warrior's shoulder, "Rise, Glorfindel, we are not in court, there is no need for formalities here," he patted the smooth stone wall beside him, "Please, sit, enjoy the sun with me." Glorfindel rose and sat back down, his face slightly flushed. He sat bolt upright, hands folded across his lap, casting his gaze toward the ground. Turgon placed his hand lightly upon the young Elf Lord's broad back and continued, "How is it that you have no suitors, Glorfindel? Surely one of your beauty should have legions of them, following your every move."

Glorfindel closed his eyes and took a deep breath, the feeling of his King's hand upon his back made his heart race in his chest. He was thankful that he wore his hair down that day for it hid his face from his King's view. He swallowed and answered softly, "I have not met one that I am interested in, my Lord."

Turgon placed his hand under Glorfindel's chin and turned him to face him. He stared at him for a moment before speaking. The King discreetly wet his lips, drinking in the young Elf's beauty; never in his life had he seen one so perfect, so innocently alluring. He caught himself beginning to fantasize about touching him, exploring every inch of his flesh with his mouth, hearing his soft moans and nervous sighs as the last veils of his innocence fell away. He found his hand was caressing the young Lord's hair and blinked back from his reverie. He reached down and took his hand, "Come, walk with me," he said quietly. They rose from the stone wall and left the bustling courtyard, through a large oak door and down a long corridor into the King's private gardens.

They were alone as they walked amongst the large trees and rows of fragrant flowers. Glorfindel's heart raced in his chest as Turgon continued to hold his hand, gently guiding him through the maze of trees to a secluded alcove. He drew him to a smooth stone bench beneath a willow tree and bade him sit beside him. He turned the warrior's hand over in his, gently caressing his palm. He whispered, "So soft, yet so strong. ‘Tis a pity that these hands have only known battle. I would like them to know more."

Glorfindel thought he would faint dead away, he felt himself begin to tremble and tried to will himself to be still, but to no avail. He tried to speak, but words failed him. He had known his King had taken some members of his court as lovers and he had long harbored feelings of admiration for his King; he had never dreamt that Turgon would look to him for this. His gaze was locked upon his King's hand as it stroked his, his mouth went dry and his breath caught in his chest.

He heard Turgon's deep voice float into his ear, "I would like for you to dine with me this evening, Glorfindel. That is, if you would take pleasure in it?"

The warrior cleared his throat, and shakily replied, "It would be an honor, Sire."

Turgon smiled, he would break down this wall of formality between them if it was the last thing he did. He could tell the young warrior was amiable to the idea by the shaky tenor of his voice and the slight tremor in his hands. He suspected he would be the young Lord's first experience, and he intended to make it one he would never forget. "Very well then, come to me just after sundown, you need not dress formally, it will be a quiet evening, just the two of us."

Glorfindel swallowed, "Yes, my Lord."

Turgon rose and caressed his golden locks, letting his fingers trail through the ends. He licked his lips and smiled. He thought to himself he should have done this a long time ago but perhaps it would be better now that Glorfindel was older, and more capable of what he would ask of him. He bent down and took a deep breath, taking in the fresh, grassy sent of the young Elf's hair. He whispered softly, "Until then, melda," and he quietly walked away.

Glorfindel watched his King depart through the veil of his golden hair, his hands still trembling in his lap, his heart still racing in his chest. He had a pretty good idea why Turgon wanted to dine with him and it made him quite nervous. He lingered behind for a few moments before rising and returning to his home.

* * * *

He stood in front of the mirror; he had taken great care in preparing for his evening with Turgon. He wore a simple ivory colored silk tunic with shimmers of gold interwoven, tan colored suede leggings, and his boots. Beneath his tunic he wore a thin silk undershirt and beneath his leggings a pale gold loincloth. His hair was braided into a single braid behind his back, tied with a simple gold ribbon. He wore the colors of his house, but his attire was understated, just as his King had asked. He had soaked in the bath and smelled of sandalwood and rosemary. He gazed at himself in the mirror, wondering what, in all of Arda, Turgon saw in him, why he had asked for him to come to him that evening. He gathered up the bundle of flowers that were a symbol of his house and cradled them in the crook of one arm as he left his home, walking toward the King's palace.

* * * *

Turgon stood in the middle of his great bedchamber; he had left specific instructions as to how it should be prepared. A fire burned in the fireplace, candles were to be lit before he retired with his guest and the bed was dressed in elaborate silk and velvet bedcovering. The windows were open, letting in the clean night air, and there was a tray with wine and two goblets by the bed. The King himself wore a silk and velvet robe and his hair was elaborately braided with jeweled combs and silk ribbon. He twisted the rings upon his fingers and sighed. It had been long years since he had lost his wife in the crossing, and he had been lonely. There had been lovers here and there, those among his court that he knew he could trust to be discreet; but none had touched his heart. He wondered if Glorfindel would be the one who did. He opened the drawer by his bed, opening a small gold box, checking that all the contents were in order, before closing it and sliding the drawer closed again. He turned and departed toward his private dining room, closing the door behind him.

* * * *

Glorfindel entered the palace, greeted by Turgon's assistant and led to the private dining room. He had never been in that wing of the palace before; he had always been limited to the public areas. He nervously entered the dining room and began to tremble when he saw his King standing at one end of the small table. He bowed his head and softly addressed him, "Good evening, my Lord."

Turgon rounded the table and approached him; he smiled, seeing the bundle of flowers that the young warrior carried. He gently took them from his arms and pressed his nose to the blossoms, "These smell lovely, I assume they are for me, yes?"

Glorfindel suddenly felt foolish, bringing him flowers as if they were courting. He was not sure what they were doing, but he did not believe it to be courting. He stammered slightly as he addressed him, "Yes, my Lord, I brought them for you."

Turgon took him by the elbow and drew him to the chair next to his, "Thank you, Glorfindel, they are lovely. They are the symbol of your house are they not?"

There was a slight blush on his cheek as he answered and Turgon found it enchanting, "Yes, my Lord, that is the symbol of my house. I wanted to express my appreciation for your company."

The King thought to himself that it should be he that expressed his appreciation, and he would, later in the evening. He pulled the chair out for Glorfindel and the young warrior took a seat. As he sat down next to him, he offered him some wine and their meal was brought in. They enjoyed a leisurely meal, and drank several glasses of wine as they chatted. Small talk mostly, in the beginning, then the conversation took a more interesting turn. Turgon glanced at the young warrior over the edge of his glass and then set it down, reaching across the table and placing one of his hands over the warrior's, "You look lovely this evening, Glorfindel. Have I told you that?"

Glorfindel blushed, "No, my Lord, but thank you. You, too, are beautiful, as always." He closed his eyes and swallowed, he could not believe he had just said that, it must be the wine.

Turgon softly laughed, "Thank you, melda. I am glad you take pleasure in my visage, as I do in yours." He gave the warrior's hand a slight squeeze. "I have been watching you for some time, Glorfindel. I have always been impressed with your grace and nobility; you have performed your service to this house with honor." He gazed into the warrior's beautiful blue eyes, he caught himself licking his lips and feeling the beginnings of desire stir within him. He blinked and slowly continued, "I wonder if I could have you perform another service for me, Glorfindel, one of a more… personal nature."

Glorfindel's heart leaped, this was it, he thought, the King was about to ask him to be his lover, as he had those before him, "Anything, my Lord. I would perform any duty you would ask of me."

Turgon smiled, Glorfindel was nothing if not loyal. He leaned in toward the warrior, "I would like to think that it would be more than a duty," he smiled and lifted the warrior's hand to his lips and placed a feather-soft kiss upon them, "Would you spend the night with me? If you have any reservations, please do not fear to voice them. I would not have you do anything that you were not totally willing to do."

The warrior swallowed, he knew the question was coming, but now that it had been posed he was not sure how to answer. To be called to Turgon's bedchamber was a great honor, for the King did not choose lightly. He began to tremble as he answered, "I… I would like that very much, my Lord." He whispered.

The King smiled. He was going to enjoy deflowering the young warrior and it would take all night. It would be interesting to see if the discipline that Glorfindel possessed as a warrior would translate to lovemaking activities, the King would teach him well. He rose from his chair, still holding Glorfindel's hand, "Come, Glorfindel," he whispered.

Glorfindel swallowed hard and he followed Turgon from the dining room to his bedchamber. As he stepped inside he looked around the room, it was warm and inviting and appointed as one would expect, in the manner of a King. He stood beside the bed looking down at the luxurious bedcovers when he felt Turgon's hands upon his shoulders. His heart jumped inside his chest and he began to tremble slightly as he felt the King's warm hands upon his neck. Turgon began unbraiding Glorfindel's hair and running his fingers through it. The warrior closed his eyes, letting his head fall back and his lips lightly part. The King pulled his hair to the side and brushed his lips along Glorfindel's neck causing the warrior to moan quietly. His hands traveled from his shoulders to the buttons on his tunic as he deftly undid each one and slowly slid the tunic from the warrior's body. Glorfindel began to tremble harder, his heart racing in his chest and his breath coming quickly as he felt his King's hands travel across his chest, sliding over the thin silk of his under shirt before grazing the front of his leggings. His arousal responded in kind, rapidly beginning to rise, encased in the soft silk of his loincloth. Turgon whispered, "Turn around, Glorfindel," and the warrior did, his gaze meeting the now deep blue gaze of his King. He felt as if he should say something about his inexperience, he did not want to disappoint his Lord, and as he opened his lips to speak, Turgon placed his fingers over them, silencing him. The King looked into his subject's eyes, seeing the nervous uncertainty in them, and he smiled, "I chose you because you are innocent, Glorfindel, innocent and very beautiful," he placed a soft kiss to his forehead, "I will be gentle with you. You will not regret this." With that, he covered the warrior's mouth with his own, softly playing around his lips with his tongue, gently pressing them open and seeking the warm heat of his mouth. As Glorfindel opened his mouth, Turgon moaned when he tasted the sweet recesses of it. The warrior tasted of violets and honey; it was pure, sweet innocence. Glorfindel's lips had never tasted the flesh of another, never been bruised by punishing, heated kisses; his tongue never tasted the sweet saltiness of another male's essence. He would experience all those things before the night was over, all those things and much more.

Turgon's hand slid up the back of the warrior's neck as he cradled his head, still softly pressing his tongue into his mouth, lapping at him, caressing his tongue with his own. He felt his body responding to the kiss, felt Glorfindel's arousal begin to press against his own, and he rocked his hips into him, rubbing them together, earning a gasp from the innocent Elf. After what felt like an eternity, Turgon broke their kiss. The warrior's body had become as pliable as a willow, moldable as clay, and Turgon pulled him closer, pressing their bodies together as he moved his lips to Glorfindel's ear.

The contact of the King's soft, warm lips upon his ear sent a bolt of desire through him, and he gasped, his arms flying up from Turgon's sides to grasp his back. ‘By the Valar, it was amazing'; he could feel the soft wet caresses all the way to his toes. He feared he would spend himself on the spot as he began to tremble and whimper, clinging to the King with all his might. Just as he thought he could take no more, Turgon withdrew his lips and pulled back, looking at him. He smiled, "You have never experienced such sensation, even at your own hand?" he whispered. Glorfindel silently shook his head still trembling and panting against him, desire now raged inside him, his arousal throbbing inside his leggings. Turgon softly chuckled, "Such restraint from one so young. How is it that you have never pleasured yourself? Many others have done so."

Glorfindel blushed, looking down and away from his King, he had been asked a question and was duty-bound to answer, though he did not want to. He opened his mouth and began to speak when he felt Turgon's warm fingers upon his lips, "You do not have to answer me, Glorfindel. I find your chastity quite alluring. It is an honor for me to be your first, melda, I will make sure that you do not regret your decision." He grasped the bottom of his undershirt and gently pulled it over his head. Turgon's lips and hands traveled to the young warrior's chest and he took one nipple in between his forefinger and thumb, gently manipulating it as he sucked and nipped at the other. Glorfindel began to moan and arch his back, pressing his chest into Turgon's mouth. His knees felt as if they were about to buckle and he clung to the strong form of his King. Turgon's free hand brushed down the warrior's abdomen and came to rest upon the ties of his leggings. He quickly unlaced them and slid his other hand down, hearing the warrior whimper as it left his now erect nipple and he slid the younger Elf's leggings down, his mouth trailing down his abdomen as Glorfindel's hand flew out to grasp the bed post, steadying himself. He felt the King's strong hands slide back up his bare thighs, softly caressing his buttocks as he pressed his mouth into his stomach.

Glorfindel moaned, as the King's tongue caressed his belly, skirting the line just above his loincloth, his legs began to tremble harder and he hoarsely whispered, "I do not know how much longer I can stand, my Lord."

Turgon chuckled against his belly, "Alright, lirimaer, let us lie down then," he gently laid Glorfindel upon the bed and crawled over him, hovering above him on his hands and knees. He looked down upon the beautiful, virginal, young Elf, his hair spread out around his head, his lithe, alabaster body trembling beneath him. It took all the restraint he possessed to stop himself from ravaging the young Elf; he was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Glorfindel looked up into the dark blue eyes of his King, and he reached up and softly caressed his face; his hand trembled as he did so and he sighed. Turgon was indeed handsome and Glorfindel admired him so. He felt the soft velvet of his Lord's robe brush against his thighs and he was overcome with desire for him, yet so unsure as to what to do.

The King slowly lowered himself to the young warrior, pressing another deep kiss to him before trailing back down his muscled torso and brushing his lips against his arousal. He heard the warrior softly groan and felt him begin to undulate beneath him. He closed his eyes, he wanted to relish each soft moan and whimper, and each trembling caress that came from the innocent. He hooked his fingers inside the thin straps on each side of the loincloth and gently pulled it free, exposing Glorfindel's erect desire. His fingers played about in the soft dusting of golden hair that grew at its base as he looked at him, ‘By Elbereth, even this is beautiful…' he thought as he caressed the warrior's arousal with his eyes. Glorfindel trembled beneath him like a doe caught in a snare, Turgon could hear the soft gasps and moans each time he touched him and he drew it out as long as he could. He heard the warrior begin to plead with him and he looked up into his eyes, seeing a thin shimmer of tears building within them. He brushed his lips against his arousal and felt the warrior arch his back and moan deeply. He made a few teasing strokes of his lips and tongue before taking the innocent in his mouth.

Glorfindel cried out as he felt Turgon's wet, warm mouth sheathe him. He pressed his head back into the pillow as he felt his Lord begin to draw him in and out of his mouth, each stroke deeper and faster than the last. By the time the King took him into the back of his throat, Glorfindel had the bedcovers knotted in his fists; he arched his back so powerfully that his shoulders came off the bed. As he came to completion he felt his King swallowing his essence and stroking his thighs gently. Glorfindel fell back to the bed and lay trembling beneath his Lord; he whispered endearments in Quenya to him as a tear rolled from his eye. Turgon slowly kissed his way up the warrior's body, taking him in his arms and cradling his head against his chest. Glorfindel folded himself into his King's body wrapping his arms around his waist and draping one leg over him. He snuggled against the soft velvet of his Lord's robe and felt his unreleased desire press into his belly. Turgon whispered, "Glorfindel, harma nya, ohtar nya."

Glorfindel whispered, "Heruamin, I give myself to you, I belong to you," he raised his gaze to his King, "How shall I pleasure you, my Lord? Tell me how to make you feel as you have made me feel."

Turgon smiled, Glorfindel was a willing and eager student, and a gentle and giving lover; he was irresistible. He whispered softly, "Remove my garments." The younger Elf, carefully and nervously unbuttoned the clasps on his robe, slowly pulling it open to expose the King's naked body. His wide blue eyes gazed up into those of his King's, Turgon smiled and whispered, "What would you like to do, lirimaer?"

Glorfindel whispered, "I want to touch you, I want to kiss you, my Lord."

Turgon stroked his golden hair, "Then do so, a'maelamin." Glorfindel tentatively ran his hands across his King's broad chest, softly caressing him, exploring every curve and plane, committing them to memory. Soon his lips followed the path of his hands, and then his tongue as Turgon leaned back into the pillows, moaning quietly as Glorfindel grew bolder. The younger Elf pressed his body closer, his reawakening arousal pressing against his Lord's, as his lips traveled to Turgon's ear. The King hissed through his clenched jaw as the younger Elf began to manipulate his ear as he softly moaned into it and he reached down and took the warrior's arousal in his hand and began stroking it against his. Glorfindel moaned in Turgon's ear and began to thrust into his hand and against his arousal, earning breathless words of praise from his Lord. Turgon's free hand slid around behind him and his fingers began to rub his entrance and the young Elf Lord gasped and moaned at the sensation. Glorfindel felt his lover's arousal begin to weep and he thrust harder against it, feeling the tip press into his belly at the end of each thrust. Turgon hoarsely whispered, "Open the drawer there and hand me the gold box." Glorfindel did as instructed and Turgon bade him lay on his stomach. The younger Elf stretched out on the bed across the maddeningly soft silk sheets, trembling in anticipation. He felt slightly warm oil drizzle across his buttocks. "Rise to your knees, lirimaer," the King whispered. As Glorfindel rose to his knees, he felt his Lord's strong hands take his hips and his thumbs gently separate his buttocks, exposing the tight entrance that lay in the cleft. Turgon knelt behind him and slipped a well-oiled finger inside him, hearing the younger Elf gasp then moan deeply. He probed inside him, gently encouraging his muscles to relax, searching for his mark, when the warrior cried out and arched his powerful back, his hair falling across it as he spread his legs and pressed back against him. Turgon smiled, "Lle naa vanima, Glorfindel," he whispered. As he felt the young Lord accept him, he removed his fingers, hearing him groan, and positioned himself at the warrior's entrance, slowly pushing inside him without pause, until he was completely sheathed within him. He paused, feeling the incredibly tight, velvet heat surround him, "By the Valar he felt so good, and he was so beautiful.' He thought. The King reached around and wrapped his arms around the younger Elf, pulling him up and back until Glorfindel leaned back against his King, quietly whimpering. The warrior's long, golden hair fell over Turgon's shoulder, lightly brushing against his back as the King took his mouth to his ear. He whispered, "I am going to show you pleasure you have never dreamed of, Glorfindel. As long as you remain with me, you will know only incredible pleasure, and affection." One hand traveled down the warrior's abdomen, taking his arousal and stroking it; the other held his chest tight and he took his mouth to the warrior's ear. Turgon began moving inside him, slowly at first, then with greater speed and depth. He alternated between stroking and squeezing the younger Elf's arousal as he mercilessly sucked and nibbled at his ear. He would bring him to the brink of release, then squeeze tightly, preventing it. He tortured Glorfindel for what felt like an eternity, the warrior writhing against him, alternating between whimpering and begging. When Turgon felt himself peaking, he stroked the younger Elf again in rapid succession until he heard him cry out and the King spent himself inside him.
Glorfindel hung from his lover's arms, totally spent and ravaged. Turgon laid his boneless body on the bed, pulling the bedcovers up around him and sliding in behind him, cradling him in his arms as he sighed. He was exhausted and happy, totally satiated and blissfully fulfilled, for the first time in more years than he cared to remember. Glorfindel slept peacefully in his King's arms, snuggling back into him and sighing peacefully. He whispered, "Amin mela le, my Lord."

Turgon smiled, "Amin mela le, Glorfindel."

The two slept peacefully for the rest of the night.

* * * *

Epilogue

Glorfindel discreetly remained Turgon's lover until the end of his reign, some fifty-two years later. Glorfindel lost his lover, and his own life in the year 510 of the First Age. After valiantly ensuring the escape of Turgon's daughter and husband, and their son Eärendil, during the onslaught of Melkor's forces upon Gondolin, he gave his life battling a Balrog in the Encircling Mountains. It is said that yellow flowers, the same yellow flowers that he brought his lover their first night together, grew on the barren mound of stone that marked his grave until the world was forever changed.

"And they made a feast in memory of Gondolin and of the Elves that had perished there, the maidens, and the wives, and the warriors of the King; and for Glorfindel the beloved, many were the songs they sang, under the willows of Nantathren in the waning of the year." – The Silmarillion, Of Tuor and the Fall of Gondolin, JRR Tolkien

Harma nya = my treasure
Ohtar nya = my warrior
Heruamin = my Lord
Lirimaer = lovely one
Lle naa vanima = you are beautiful

*****

THE END

Go to the next story in the series: Lust and Broken Alliances

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