A Perfect Fit

Posted: May 2003
Type: FCS
Author: Larien Elengasse
Series: Perfect Love
Sequel to: Lust and Broken Alliances
Pairing(s): Thranduil / Glorfindel
Rating: NC-17
Summary:Thranduil offers assistance and shelter to the Balrog Slayer and things do not go as planned for the Mirkwood King
Disclaimer: The characters in this story are not mine, they are the property of JRR Tolkien, I just decide their fates…
Warning (only if necessary): M/M Slash, Angst, and explicit sexual content
Authors Note: This is my first fic and I want to thank Eowyn, my beta reader, and Celebrethil, my moral support. This is dedicated to my muse, Thranduil

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Glorfindel sat on the side of a long table; the gash in his left arm had been freshly cleaned and bandaged. He felt heavy, exhausted, as he looked about the room at his wounded soldiers. His ruined tunic and cloak had been removed and destroyed and he wore only his blood soaked leggings. The ambush by the Uruks and Orcs had been brutal, seven members of his party were seriously injured and four lay dead. His party had been outnumbered four to one and the battle had been fierce. Had it not been for the Mirkwood Elves that came to their rescue they might all be dead. He was preoccupied with concern for his soldiers and did not hear Thranduil approach.

Thranduil stood in the open doorway to the dining hall that had been transformed into an infirmary; it echoed with the groans of the wounded. Glorfindel looked quite out of place amongst the wounded Elves and the healers. He was tall and lean but very strong. His golden mane fell wildly about his broad shoulders and strong chest and even though it was soiled with dirt and blood it still glowed in the candlelight. Thranduil quietly approached him and softly spoke, "It pleases me to see that you will recover, Glorfindel. The great Balrog Slayer lives to fight another day."

Glorfindel turned to meet the gaze of the warrior he saw earlier, the Elf who saved his life. He had been locked in combat when he had heard a swoosh of air and had seen the flash of light upon metal. A broadsword sliced through the air next to him, striking its target, the chest of a Uruk poised to stab him in the back. Thranduil had saved his life. He had never met the King of Mirkwood and now he saw that the stories he had heard were not exaggerated. The King stood before him in a green and silver velvet cloak; his battle gear had been replaced by an elaborately decorated velvet tunic and suede leggings. All signs of the battle had been washed away and his still damp golden hair fell softly around his shoulders. He wore none of the ceremonial braids that were the custom for one of his rank, preferring only two simple ones on each side, tucked back behind his ears, those of a warrior. His eyes were a brilliant light blue, like the sky on a crisp fall day, and his skin was a soft ivory. He was an imposing figure, as tall as Glorfindel and slightly larger in build. His rosebud pink lips curved into a smile as he spoke and his voice sounded like music to the warrior's ears, "A few days rest and you should recover fully. Yet another story to tell to Elrond's sons I suppose."

Glorfindel found it impossible not to stare as he spoke to him, "My soldiers and I are in your debt, my Lord. Especially me, for it appears you saved me from a second death."

Thranduil flashed a disarming smile, "That is something I would be greatly saddened by, the world is sorely lacking in beauty and grace such as yours, Glorfindel. However, at the moment your beauty seems to be covered in Orc blood," he smiled and reached down, taking the warrior's strong hand, "Come, let us remedy this." Glorfindel did not speak as he allowed Thranduil to lead him away, down the long dark hall and through the door into his chamber. They passed through an arched doorway covered in sheer curtains to an enclosed garden, in the center of which was a natural hot spring. As Glorfindel stood looking into the steamy pool, Thranduil stepped in close behind him, inclining his head toward the warriors golden mane, resisting the urge to reach out and take it into his hands. He spoke quietly into his ear, "Take as long as you like, there is a robe hanging on the chair just inside the door when you are finished. I have sent word to Elrond that you and your soldiers are under my care until you are well enough to travel." As Glorfindel turned to thank him he caught a glimpse of his green cloak as it passed through the doorway.

He pulled off his boots and peeled off his sweat and blood soaked leggings and stepped into the warm pool. He sighed as he sank into the water, letting it wash away all of the grime and aches from the battle. He closed his eyes and submerged his head beneath the water for a few moments, when he rose he tilted his head back and leaned it against the rocks. Thranduil haunted his thoughts as he closed his eyes and rested in the warm water. He was haunted by his strength and beauty, by the fire in his eyes during battle. He opened his eyes with a start, shaking his head, as he tried to clear the thoughts that begin to creep into his mind. He was determined not to fall prey to Thranduil's magic or his charm; he would not be one more in an endless list of conquests for the Mirkwood King.

Thranduil sat in a great oak chair by the fireplace, watching the golden warrior through the sheer fabric that covered the doorway. The legendary Balrog Slayer was here, in his garden. He was mesmerized by his strength and his grace. He admired his beauty; his wet, golden hair softly clung to his face, drops of water trickled across his alabaster skin. His lips were full and soft, begging to be kissed. His lean, muscular body was a work of art; he was the most beautiful being Thranduil had ever seen. He could easily weave a spell that would hold him here but that would be too simple. No, he wanted to seduce the warrior; he wanted him to come to him freely, without aid of magic. He shifted in his chair as he felt desire spark inside him. He would not take him tonight, he would wait; wait until the warrior came to him, until he begged to be taken. He rose from his chair and departed to find a young Elf with which to satiate his desire.

Glorfindel rose from the pool, his muscles languid from exhaustion and from soaking in the warm water. He passed through the curtains back into Thranduil's chamber and found it empty. As he looked around the room, he plucked the robe from the chair and wrapped himself in it. The King's chamber was warm and seductive, lit by candlelight and the glow of the fire. In the center was a great iron bed covered in silk and velvet. He had never seen a bed that size; four well-built males could easily sleep in it. He crossed the room and bent down to touch the luxurious bedding. His last thought caused a sly grin to cross his lips as he imagined why the King would want a bed that large. Rumors of Thranduil's sexual prowess are legendary. It was said that no one he wanted ever escaped his grasp. It was also said that he had taken more lovers in a season than the heartiest Elves took in a year. The fierce battle, combined with his weakened state from being wounded and exhausted, caused him to feel slightly dizzy. He placed one hand upon the bed to steady himself as he slowly sat down upon it. His skin was still warm and pink from the bath and the fire made the room quite warm as well. He laid back on the plush bed and thought he will close his eyes just for a moment. What harm could it do? The King was obviously not there and he did invite him in.

Moments passed into hours as Thranduil returned to find the warrior soundly asleep on his bed. He smiled, thinking to himself this may be easier than he had imagined and he felt a slight twinge of disappointment in that. He removed his cloak and his tunic, folding them and hanging them upon a chair. He sat and removes his boots and his leggings and walked to the far side of the bed. He carefully lifted the covers and slid his naked body underneath, taking care not to wake the sleeping warrior. As he settled in, Glorfindel sighed in his sleep and rolled across the bed to come to rest next to Thranduil. The King rolled onto his side to face his guest as he smiled and enjoyed watching him sleep. He finally closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift off as well.

It was very early in the morning, before sunrise, as Glorfindel began to stir. He rolled to his back and stretched as he felt something soft brush against his hand. He was slightly disoriented and furrowed his brow as he blinked to adjust his newly awakened eyes to the dim, predawn light. As he regained his focus, he looked to see what his hand has brushed against and he sat up with a start. Thranduil lay on his side; one muscular arm tucked beneath his head and the other hand resting upon his rippled abdomen. His eyes were closed and his lips were softly parted. The sheets rested far down his side, just covering his lap. His chest slowly rose and fell with each breath and he appeared to sleep deeply. Glorfindel shifted to his side and studied the King; his chest, arms and abdomen were well muscled from years of training with the broadsword and from battle. One small silver ring pierced each nipple and his soft golden hair gently fell across his shoulders. He was radiant in his sleep and Glorfindel thought he was perhaps the most beautiful Elf he had ever seen. In this state, he looked so peaceful, almost innocent, and the urge to reach out and touch him was nearly overwhelming. Thranduil took a deep breath, his chest fully expanded as he stretched and his right hand fell upon Glorfindel's arm. His touch made the warrior shudder with both trepidation and desire. The sleeping King uttered a soft moan as he shifted, his left hand reached out from under his head and came to rest upon the warrior's lower back. Glorfindel was frozen, wanting to take him in his arms and to flee at the same time. Thranduil's eyes slowly blinked open and his pale blue gaze turned up to meet Glorfindel's.

He smiled sleepily as he sat up and spoke softly, "You are awake. I did not have the heart to wake you when I returned, you were sleeping so peacefully."

The warrior replied nervously, "I owe you many thanks my Lord. You have been more than generous with your hospitality. I fear I have overstepped my bounds by taking over half your bed."

Thranduil laughed softly as he sat up, his gaze holding Glorfindel's, "Nonsense, there is plenty of room here for both of us, it was no trouble meldiramin. You are welcome here as long as you would like to stay," he paused as he slowly drew his hand from Glorfindel's arm, "I do hope you will stay Glorfindel. Your company brings me much pleasure."

Glorfindel felt himself being drawn into the King's gaze, as if he were sinking. His voice was but a soft whisper as he replied, "I am glad that you enjoy my company, my Lord, I enjoy yours as well. I will stay until my soldiers have recovered enough to travel back to Imladris."

Thranduil smiled and took a deep breath, throwing back the covers and rising from the bed. The vision of his nude body caused Glorfindel to draw a sharp breath; his powerful form glided across the floor like a cat. He crossed the room where he retrieved his robe and pulled it on as he turned to face Glorfindel, drawing his robe closed and tying the belt. His smile was warm and seductive as he spoke, "You must be hungry. When was the last time you were able to eat?"

The Eldar's voice seemed to come from outside his body as he answered, "Sometime yesterday, early I think." He was aware he was staring at the King but could not seem to stop himself.

Thranduil held out his hand and smiled gently, "Then come, let us get some nourishment for you. Join me for breakfast."

Glorfindel slowly rose from the bed and followed Thranduil to his private study where the King instructed his servants to bring food and drink. The two sat at the table leisurely talking and eating breakfast, exchanging stories of battle and talking of their respective lives in Mirkwood and Imladris. Glorfindel had never really thought of what it was like for the Mirkwood Elves, living under constant threat of attack; violence had become part of their daily existence. Thranduil's caves lay behind a protective veil of his magic, but the surrounding forest could be treacherous. Venturing out into the wood could bring the end of one's life quite easily. The Mirkwood King appeared to take it all in stride, as if violence was a part of everyone's life. His quiet confidence and serene manner were in sharp contrast to the stories Glorfindel had heard of the King. He appeared to be a contradiction, both fierce and bold in battle and confident and peaceful within the palace. The more time he spent with him the more intrigued he became.

Thranduil leaned back in his chair, looking at his guest, admiring his elegant grace and his radiant beauty. He knew Glorfindel had long been allied with Elrond and he wondered if Elrond had taken him for a lover. He imagined that Glorfindel was not taken as anything unless it was also his idea. This Eldar that now sat before him had seen and experienced so many things in his long life. Thranduil believed he was one who would truly understand him and the fact that he obviously did not intimidate him was very alluring, for so many feared him. The great warrior showed no lack of confidence and control on the battlefield or off. ‘What would it be like?' he wondered, ‘What would it be like to touch him, to kiss his full lips, to run my hands over his strong body?' The longer he was with the great warrior the more enamored of him he became.

After a few moments of silence Glorfindel realized he had been staring at the beautiful King without saying a word. Thranduil had been returning his gaze, also in silence. The way the King reclined in his chair, his robe open to just above his navel, his muscled chest exposed, and the hungry look in his eye caused the warrior to feel the familiar spark of passion inside his belly. The tension in the air was thick and heavy. Glorfindel felt his pulse pounding in his head so hard that he wondered if the King could hear it himself. His mouth had gone completely dry despite the drink in front of him. His palms rested upon his thighs and he could feel his hands beginning to tremble slightly. He swallowed hard and struggles to maintain a steady voice as he spoke, "I must go and check on my soldiers, Sire. Will you excuse me?"

Thranduil slowly blinked, as if he himself had been daydreaming, and took a deep breath as he slowly replied, "Yes, of course, my friend. Please tell me if there is anything further I can do." Glorfindel quickly departed the room and headed for the main dining hall.

Thranduil lingered behind, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He slowly sat forward resting his elbows on the great table in front of him, placing his head in his hands and rubbing his temples. ‘By the Valar, this Elf has all but possessed my every thought,' To be near him caused his heart to race and his palms to sweat. He was not sure he would have the strength to wait for the Eldar to come to him, the desire he felt for him grew stronger by the passing minute.

Legolas cast his kind blue gaze upon his father; he had rarely seen him in that state, "Ada ? Are you alright?"

Thranduil looked up to meet the warm face of his son. He smiled gently and rose from his chair, crossing the room to Legolas and cupping his cheek in one strong hand, "Yes Iôn , just lost in thought. How do Glorfindel's soldiers fare?"

Legolas placed his hand on his father's shoulder, "Not well I am afraid. He lost one during the night and another will not last much longer. The healers are doing all they can but their injuries are too great."

Thranduil took his son in a strong embrace, cradling his head against his shoulder, "Thank the Valar I did not lose you, Iôn, I could not bear it. It is a fear I live with each time you ride out on patrol." He held him close to his chest, reluctant to let him go for a few moments before finally releasing him.

Legolas smiled at his father, noting that he had become more affectionate in his elder years, "You will never lose me, Ada. I am too stubborn to die, just as you are."

Thranduil laughed softly, "Yes you are that Iôn, stubborn like me and strong," he placed a gentle kiss on his son's forehead, "I should check on Glorfindel, he will need our support before it is over. Hopefully the worst is past."

Legolas and Thranduil departed his study and Thranduil continued down the hall to the makeshift infirmary. The room was filled with the moans of the wounded and the healers were busy at work, trying to save and comfort those they could. He entered the room and found Glorfindel kneeling beside the body of his most seriously wounded soldier. He held the soldier's hand in his, pressing it against his cheek, his head slowly shook back and forth; his shoulders were rounded and Thranduil saw them begin to shake as if he were weeping. The King could see that the soldier had just died, bringing the total lost to six now. ‘It is too much,' Glorfindel thought. He whispered sadly, "Too much death, too many fallen and this is but a boy." The sadness in his voice was heartbreaking. He threw back his head and howled in agony dropping the young man's hand back to his bloody chest. Thranduil quickly crossed the room and dropped to his knees behind Glorfindel catching him as he began to fall backward. The great warrior had lost any trace of dignity and sobbed in Thranduil's arms like a child. The King looked at the face of the dead soldier and saw the face of a boy, just past his majority. ‘Such loss, such waste of life.' he thought. He took the Eldar in his arms and rose from the floor, carrying his grief-wracked body back to his quarters.

He gently laid Glorfindel on the bed and stretched out beside him, holding him in his arms, trying to bring him some comfort. He stroked his golden hair and whispered, "Ssshh… meldir . Let me calm the storm that rages in your heart. It is not your fault, you did all that you could to save them." Glorfindel's sobs faded as he looked up into the face of the golden King. Thranduil placeed a soft kiss on his forehead as he whispered to him, "I know what you feel, I too have lost many soldiers, too many to count, but I remember them all. Each one felt as though I lost part of myself. I felt responsible for their deaths; I was the one who sent them out to do battle, knowing they might fall. But, you know, as well as I, that it is what we must do if we are to hold evil at bay, to keep it from swallowing all of Middle Earth. It is the burden we must bear. Death and life, good and evil, they are forever entwined, there cannot be one without the other."

Glorfindel rose up to his elbow, looking into the deep blue expanse of the King's eyes and saw nothing but kindness and compassion. This was an Elf who truly understood him, a fellow warrior. One who had walked Arda longer than many, who had seen as much violence, experienced as much loss as he. He reached out and touched his radiant face, drawing his hand along his ivory cheek. He leaned forward, inches at a time, slowly closing the distance between them. His breath quickened, his heart raced, until he was so close that he could feel Thranduil's breath on his face. He closed his eyes and pressed his mouth to his; the feeling of the King's warm, soft lips caused him to quietly moan into his mouth. Thranduil's heart stopped and he felt as if the room were spinning. The warrior's mouth against his, his tongue softly seeking entrance into his own mouth, his strong hands caressing his body. ‘By the Valar,' Thranduil thought, ‘I am drowning in his kiss, in his beauty...' Thranduil sighed softly as he opened his mouth allowing the warrior's tongue entrance, softly caressing it and encircling it with his own. In a brief moment of clarity he found it strange that this is how it should begin, not with seduction, but through kindness. He could feel Glorfindel's fingers deftly untying his belt and sliding his robe open, exposing his naked skin. The kiss felt as if it went on forever, warm, soft, and wet; so intimate and so passionate, neither had ever experienced the like.

"You are beautiful, Thranduil," Glorfindel sighed, "so warm, so soft and yet so strong." He kissed every inch of his ivory skin, concentrating on each nipple for what felt like an eternity, fondling the small rings that pierced each one against his tongue as the King moaned in response, "Aaahh, meleth nín , you kill me with your mouth."

Thranduil pushed his head back against the pillows, moaning, his desire mounting with each flick and caress of the beautiful warrior's tongue. He felt Glorfindel's lips curved into a smile against his bare chest as the warrior whispered, "I will kill you very slowly, aran nín , inch by inch." He continued down his rippled abdomen, pausing to brush his lips against the fine, down-like hair just above his rising erection. Thranduil ground his teeth and hissed through his clenched jaw as the Eldar brushed his full, soft lips along his length. He grasped the velvet bed coverings in his fists as he groaned, lifting his shoulders off of the bed and letting his legs fall further apart. Glorfindel continues his torture as he softly licked and sucked at his velvety pouch and the feel of the Eldar's mouth upon it almost drove the King over the edge. He reached down and firmly grasped Glorfindel by the hair, quickly hauling his mouth back up to his own, drowning him in a deep, passionate kiss. He swiftly rolled over on top of the warrior, plundering his mouth and ravaging his neck while deftly untying his robe. Thranduil had never felt so hungry for another in all of his long days or after all of his lovers. Glorfindel grabbed Thranduil's hair and pulled his head back, his strong hand traveling down the King's abdomen and taking hold of his firm erection, "Why did you stop me, Sire? I have not finished with you yet." His eyes had turned dark with desire and his chest rose and fell quickly as he breathed rapidly against him.

Thranduil flashed a wicked smile, "Indeed, you are not finished, but I am not the only one who will be slain in my bed this day, mir nín . I intend to do some slaying myself." Thranduil's powerful hand slid down the warrior's belly in one smooth, quick movement and before Glorfindel could catch his breath the King had seized the source of his desire. The warrior gasped as the King took hold of him, stroking him and squeezing him while whispering erotic words in his ear. He felt as if he were floating outside his body as the golden King manipulated and caressed him, stroking the Eldar's erection with his own.

Glorfindel closed his eyes and whispered breathlessly in the King's ear, "I ache for you Thranduil, I have since I first saw you. I have been searching for one like you for many long years." He ran his hands down the King's strong back, removing his robe and casting it to the floor.

Thranduil's deep voice echoed in the warrior's ear, "You have found me now, you need search no longer. I will never leave you, Glorfindel." He rolled to his back, removing the warrior's robe and caressing his round buttocks, his mouth never leaving his skin.

Glorfindel slid down, resuming his previous task, taking the King's arousal in his mouth, gently sucking and swirling his tongue around it as Thranduil moaned and closed his eyes, surrendering himself to the Eldar's wet embrace. As the warrior took him into the back of his throat Thranduil did something that he had not done in an age, he opened his heart to the beautiful warrior, giving him something that he had not given anyone since he was but a young Elf first discovering love. His strong hands reached down and gently stroked Glorfindel's soft hair as one small tear rolled from his eye. He was amazed at how different this was than what he had intended, from what he had imagined, how full of tenderness and love it was. He felt a twinge of guilt at what he had planned, at what he had originally wanted. He knew now he could never bear to see this proud warrior beg for anything, including himself. Glorfindel drew groans and sighs from the King until he could bear it no longer and he spent himself inside the Eldar's beautiful mouth groaning his name. Glorfindel drank him in luxuriating in his lover's taste. He then lifted up and slid back up to his beloved King, lying his head on the pillow next to his, watching him. He looked so peaceful, his eyes were closed, a soft smile played across his lips, his chest rose and fell with each deep breath.

Thranduil lay quietly for a few moments before slowly opening his eyes and turning his ice blue gaze to his new lover. A seductive smile crossed his lips as he slowly recovered his breath and rolled toward him, sliding over him, feeling the result of his lover's performance pressing into his own thigh. He slowly and deliberately kissed the Eldar, exploring every inch of his body, not with the fevered pitch he had before, but with the soft, seductive touch of one who worshiped the warrior. "It is your turn, meleth nín. What would you have of me?"

Glorfindel's breath caught in his throat, he had not thought the King would ask him what he wanted, he just assumed he would take what he was given. The wheels in Glorfindel's brain almost spun out of control at the thought and Thranduil slowly began working his way down the warrior's battle-hardened stomach. Glorfindel could feel his whole body quivering at the idea that he could command anything he wanted of this Elf, of this beautiful King. He whispered hoarsely, "I want you inside me, Thranduil; I want to feel you inside me." As the words left his mouth he was shocked to hear them, he had never actually asked this of anyone before, usually preferring to be the dominant one. He felt Thranduil softly chuckle against his stomach, as he trembled beneath him.

Thranduil's lips curved into a smile, brushing the length of the warrior's now throbbing erection, "Then you shall have what you want, seneschal." He reached across the bed into a drawer, retrieving a small vial of oil. He sat up, pouring a small amount of the oil into his palms, rubbing them together to warm it. Glorfindel watched how deliberate he was in this task, his silky hair mussed and falling haphazardly about his shoulders, his eyes turning a deep midnight blue once again as his desire began to rise. He seductively applied the oil to himself, all the while staring deep into the warrior's eyes. Suddenly Glorfindel felt like a young Elfling, staring up into those impossibly blue eyes; he felt like it was his first time all over again. This was so different than what he had intended. When he reached for him, for that first kiss, his only intent was to drown the pain and sorrow in his heart, now all he could think of was him, how much he wanted him, how much he needed him. Thranduil applied an additional small amount of the oil to his hands and rubbed them together again before sliding his finger down to rub the warrior's tight entrance. He leaned down whispering in his ear, "Have you done this before, meldir?" he flicked his tongue against the sensitive tip of the Eldar's ear as he spoke.

Glorfindel drew a ragged breath as he replied in a hoarse whisper, "Yes, but it has been some time since." Thranduil's weight pressed him into the bed; his warm wet tongue probed his ear, driving the warrior mad.

"Then I will be careful and I will go no further than you want, meleth nín." The taste of his skin was intoxicating as he continued to kiss his neck. He slowly slid one finger inside as Glorfindel took a deep shuddering breath. He slowly began probing him and massaging that magical spot that drove him mad. Glorfindel tangled his strong hands in the King's hair as he moaned into his ear, spreading his legs and pushing down onto his hand. Thranduil slid a second finger in, breathing deeply; trying to contain his own mounting desire as he lovingly massaged the relaxing entrance and stroked his lover's erection with both his hand and his own rigid desire. As he slipped a third finger in Glorfindel pleaded with him not to delay, not to prolong this torture. "As you wish, meleth nín," he whispered as he rose to his knees, gathering the warrior's muscular legs in his arms, drawing them up and apart as he slowly slid inside him. The tight, velvet heat that encased him caused him to throw his head back and groan deeply, pausing inside him, trying to keep from spending himself too soon. He continued to stroke and squeeze his lover as he took a deep breath, slowly beginning to thrust inside him as they both moaned. The pace began to quicken and Glorfindel grasped the head of the great iron headboard in his hands, bracing himself against it, allowing his lover to thrust deeper. He could see Thranduil was getting close, his face was flushed and his eyelids began to flutter. He was fighting to hold back, he wanted to wait for him, he wanted both of them to climax together but it was getting so difficult to hold on. He let out a moan as Thranduil whispered, "I am close, meleth nín, very close, just a few moments longer." Glorfindel took a deep breath and held it in his chest, clamping his eyes shut when he felt it; Thranduil drove in deeply and spent himself inside him moaning loudly as Glorfindel gasped as he flooded his lover's hand and his own stomach with his release. Thranduil slowly withdrew, lazily lapping up his lover's seed from his stomach while spreading it across his own stomach with the hand that once held him. Watching the King's hand slowly caress his own stomach, combined with the feeling of his lover's tongue slowly sliding across his skin and his mouth gently sucking at his abdomen, sent tremors through his body as he still quaked in the aftermath of one of the most intense orgasms he had ever experienced.

He lie quietly, his eyes closed and his breath labored, trembling as his lover slid up next to him, taking him in his arms and holding him close. He was unable to fight back the flood of emotion that overcame him that morning and began to shake and weep in his King's arms. Thranduil pulled the bedcovers up around them, holding him close, stroking him, "Glorfindel, meldiramin . I am here, weep as long as you need." With those kind words a flood of tears flow from Glorfindel's eyes as Thranduil silently held him, stroking him and comforting him. He held the warrior until he finally cried himself to sleep.

Hours later he awoke, still in his lover's arms and sat up. Thranduil smiled gently at him blinking sleepily. Glorfindel stroked his beautiful face and leaned in pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He looked at the bed rubbing his face in his hands feeling embarrassed at how he broke down and wept like a child. Thranduil sat up and placed his arm around him, "What is it meldir?"

Glorfindel slowly shook his head, "I am ashamed. I have been weeping like a child; you must think me very weak. What right do I have to weep? The number of soldiers I have lost must be small in comparison to the losses you have had to suffer, living so close to evil. I have been insensitive and weak."

Thranduil placed his hand on the side of his head, drawing it to his lips. He smiled and his voice was so kind, "You keep saying you are weak. That is not true, you do not weep from weakness, you weep because your heart is noble and you care for your soldiers. This is not weakness; this is love and true nobility, Glorfindel. You are the bravest and strongest warrior I have ever known." He took the warrior's strong hand in his own and brought it to his lips.

Glorfindel took a deep breath and turned to look at the King. He smiled and caressed his hair and he heard his own voice saying words he never thought he would hear, "A'maelamin , Thranduil, what would I do without you?"

Thranduil chuckled, "You are far stronger than you believe my Balrog Slayer. It is I that has been reduced to a fawning boy, longing for your touch," he smiled, "come, let us take a bath and replenish our strength. I will go check on your soldiers while you take some rest."

Glorfindel smiled, "A bath sounds very good. But, I will check on my soldiers, my Lord, they are my responsibility. You have shielded me from enough this day."

Thranduil threw the covers back and rose from the bed, extending his hand, "Come meldir, step into my garden," he flashed a wicked smile.

Glorfindel took his hand, rising from the bed and following him to the garden and into the warm, steaming pool. They lingered there for quite some time, luxuriating in each other's touch before succumbing to their desire for one another again. They stood in the center of the steaming water facing each other as Thranduil gazed deeply into the warrior's eyes. He felt Glorfindel's hand slide down his stomach; softly taking him in his battle hardened hands. The Eldar took both himself and Thranduil in his hand, rubbing himself against the King's hardening erection. Thranduil gasped as he felt the warrior's arousal stroking against his own, his tongue lapping at his lips begging for entry into the golden ruler's mouth. He whispered hoarsely, "Ai, Glorfindel, you will be the death of me."

Glorfindel's free hand slid around the King's back drawing him closer before sliding down his back, in between the firm, perfect round orbs of his buttocks. He hoarsely whispered in his ear, "I have thought of something else I want, Sire." His finger pressed against the tight entrance he found there.

Thranduil clenched his jaw; no one had ever been allowed to do that. He grabbed him by the hair, pulling his head back to expose his powerful neck. He growled in reply, "No one has ever dared to ask for that, seneschal, and no one has ever been permitted to do what you ask of me now."

The warrior's grip strengthened and he stroked the King with renewed fervor, thrusting and sliding against him as his head was pulled back to its limit and the King bit down roughly on his neck. "I only ask to show you the pleasure you showed me, my King." He clenched his teeth, bracing against the sensation of his hair pulling and his neck bruising beneath the King's mouth. Thranduil's strong hands moved to his shoulders as he pushed him away, quickly rising from the pool and entering his chamber. Glorfindel shook his head trying to clear the fog that seemed to encircle him. His now throbbing erection was beginning to demand release. He was surprised and defeated at the result of his brazen request, at the taste he just received of Thranduil's legendary temper. He never should have dared to go so far, he should have known better. After a few moments alone he moved to rise from the warm water, his pounding desire just beginning to subside. He looked up and saw the King standing before him, water trickling from his powerful body, his arousal still prominent, arching toward his stomach.

He stepped back down into the steaming water, running his hand to the back of the warrior's strong neck, drawing him into a passionate kiss before whispering in his ear, "I am sorry, meleth nín. I did not know how to react, no one has ever asked for this, I have never considered granting it to anyone." He extended his other hand from behind his back; in it was the small vial he had kept by the bed. He pressed his lips into Glorfindel's ear as he whispered, "I will grant you what you wish," he took a ragged breath as he continued quietly, "because I love you."

The sound of those three words in his ear caused his heart to stop, ‘I love you, he said I love you,' he thought. His head was swimming and his heart was pounding as the Kings lips softly caressed his skin and his warm, wet tongue drew a trail from his ear to his nipple. His voice quivered as he whispered, "Are you sure, my Lord?"

Thranduil hoarsely replied, "Yes, meleth nín, I am quite sure." He knew now he was lost to the beautiful warrior, utterly possessed by his beauty and his grace. His heart and his body threatened to betray him as he began to tremble at Glorfindel's touch; he both hated and loved what the beautiful Balrog Slayer had done to him, how he had enslaved his heart.

Glorfindel poured the oil into his hand warming it as he moved behind Thranduil. He placed soft passionate kisses on the back of his neck and on his shoulders as he slid his well-oiled finger to his entrance, slowly rubbing it and placing his other hand upon the King's firm stomach. His silky voice floated into the King's ears as he leaned in, "Lean forward, meleth nín," Thranduil closed his eyes, his lids fluttered and his eyes began to roll back as he succumbed to the Eldar's touch. He did as instructed, his heart pounding in his chest, not sure what to expect. Glorfindel slowly slid his finger in as his King took a sharp breath, bracing himself against the side of the pool with one arm. Thranduil ground his teeth, taking the discomfort with the mounting pleasure he felt, never believing he could allow himself to experience what happened to him then. Glorfindel whispered, "Aaah, my Lord, you are so tight, so soft, you feel so good." He slowly slid a second finger in, further tormenting his beautiful King.

Thranduil took a deep breath and growled, "Get on with it, Glorfindel, do not handle me like some young Elfling."

The Eldar was shocked at his reply, not sure if the King knew what he asked, "I do not want to cause you pain, Sire, I want.."

Thranduil brusquely cut him off, "Pain? You think I fear pain? There is much you need to learn about me, meldiramin. Now stop toying with me and do what you will."

Glorfindel smiled, he understood the meaning behind his words, "As you command, Sire." He positioned himself at the tight entrance and slowly thrust inside him as the King clenched his teeth and groaned. Glorfindel gasped as he felt Thranduil's impossibly tight, throbbing heat sheath him. He grasped his hips and tried to hold him still to give them both time to adjust to the sensation. "My Lord," he whispers breathlessly, "Are you alright?"

Thranduil moaned as the initial shock and pain began to fade. He rocked back against him, his own arousal throbbing, his voice wavering as he spoke, "Do not torture me like this, Glorfindel, please do not make me beg for you."

Glorfindel reached around him, taking him in his hand and stroked him as he resumed his motion, slowly thrusting inside him each time deeper than the last. ‘By the Valar, he feels so good', it has been ages since he has taken a male for the first time and he had forgotten how it felt. He continued his thrusting, increasing in speed and depth as he went, breathing deeply trying to control his own climax; changing his angle to brush the gland that gave so much pleasure.

The pain was subsiding and all Thranduil felt was incredible pleasure, pleasure he had never felt in his life. As Glorfindel changed his angle and brushed up against the spot that Thranduil had touched in him earlier he groaned loudly. He felt an electric bolt of ecstasy course through his body, traveling from deep within his core all the way to his fingers and toes. He threw his head back moaning Glorfindel's name as he sought release. Glorfindel spent himself inside his King, gripping him tightly by the base, containing his orgasm.

Thranduil groans, "Let go of me Glorfindel, let me release."

He smiled, "Not yet, meleth nín, wait." He slowly withdrew from his lover, causing him to shudder. He slid around in front of him beckoning him to step up onto a small rock at the bottom so that he was above the water line. Thranduil did as instructed, seeing he had little choice as the warrior had him in a death grip. The Eldar lowered himself into the water, taking him in his mouth, still gripping him at the base and began swallowing him, drawing him into the back of his throat as Thranduil threw his head back and groaned loudly. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Glorfindel released his grip and allowed the King to spill down into his throat. It was so powerful that he almost choked, his eyes watered as he endeavored to take him all in. He slowly rose, guided by the King's strong hands, to meet his gaze. Thranduil took his face in his hands and caressed his pink cheeks with his thumbs. Glorfindel saw a tear trickle from the radiant eyes of his love as he pressed his lips to his. He whisperd into Thranduil's ear, "Amin mela le , Thranduil, I truly do."

The two warriors stood in the center of the pool, locked into an embrace, their muscular bodies pressed against one another, their strong hands caressed one another, their blonde manes intermingled with one another. They were a vision of power, of strength, and of absolute beauty; they were perfection.

Legolas stood at the window looking into the garden. He saw the two warriors through the steam, locked in their loving embrace. He smiled as he saw how happy his father was and prayed that the great warrior would not leave him broken hearted.

The two rose from the pool and dressed. Glorfindel walked down the long hall to the infirmary, dreading what he might find. As he entered he found all was quiet and one of the healers approached him informing him the worst was over, that he could look forward to leaving with his remaining soldiers in a few weeks. He sat quietly beside his Second; while he was relieved that his soldiers would recover, the thought of leaving his lover filled him with despair. He had taken an oath to Elrond, to serve him and look after his family, he knew he could not break that oath but leaving Thranduil would break the King's heart, and his own.

A month passed and Thranduil and Glorfindel spent every moment together. Glorfindel served as an advisor and trained with him and his soldiers. He lay in his arms every night, making love to him, cherishing each moment they spent together. Each passing day caused the dread within the warrior to build as he tried to decide what to do, how to resolve the impossible dilemma.

It was late in the afternoon and Thranduil sat upon his throne, Glorfindel at his side, as the herald from Imladris approached. Glorfindel's mouth went dry and his pulse pounded in his head as he saw the look in the herald's eye. The herald bowed in respect and greeted the Mirkwood King, "My Lord, I bear greetings from Lord Elrond."

Thranduil's gaze narrowed he addressed the herald, "You are welcome here, as are greetings from your Lord. What news from Imladris?"

The herald cleared his throat before firing a quick glance at Glorfindel, "Lord Elrond thanks you for the assistance and care you have given his soldiers and wonders if Lord Glorfindel and his soldiers have recovered enough to return to Imladris."

Thranduil settled back into his chair and thoughtfully stroked his jaw, "Yes, I suppose they have. Although most of the soldiers are still too weak to do battle and will require an escort as the roads are not entirely safe. Due to the continued attacks on my borders I am unfortunately unable to spare any soldiers to escort them at this time. Perhaps you should return to Imladris and inform Lord Elrond that he must send an escort party back for them."

The herald continued, "Lord Elrond assumed as much, being a healer himself, and has requested that an escort meet me here from Lothlórien. They are due to arrive in two days, they can provide escort for his soldiers back to Imladris."

Thranduil flashed a glance over his shoulder at Glorfindel and looked back at the herald, "Very well, we will look for their arrival," he clapped his hands and a host of servants rushed forward, "in the meantime, please enjoy your stay. My servants will prepare quarters for you. That will be all."

The herald narrowed his eyes as he bowed, not liking the curt dismissal by the King and departed with his servants. Thranduil rose from his throne and turned to Glorfindel, "A word, seneschal, in my chambers."

Glorfindel rose and followed Thranduil to his chamber where he closed the door behind him. Thranduil turned to face him, his piercing blue eyes delved into his heart, "So, meldir, what do you plan to do? Will you stay here with me or return to Elrond?"

Glorfindel was unable to look in his eyes as he spoke and casted his gaze to the floor, "I cannot forsake my oath to Lord Elrond, as much as it pains me to honor it. I must leave you, meleth nín."

Thranduil felt as if he had been run through. He staggered back and sat upon the bed, he supposed he knew this was what would happen all along but he had hoped that his love would be enough to hold the warrior by his side. His voice sounded small as he spoke, "So you leave me then? Cast aside the love I have given you and break my heart?"

Glorfindel rushed to him kneeling at his feet. This was the last reaction he expected, to see the great King so broken, "My Lord, I do not want to leave, my heart breaks as well. But you, most of all, must understand what I say, you know I cannot break my oath to him." He took Thranduil's strong hands in his own, pressing them to his lips, his tears fell upon them, "Forgive me, Sire. I should never have allowed this to happen, to either of us."

Thranduil looked at his lover, radiant in his golden glory, kneeling at his feet. He took a deep breath, "Would it change anything if I begged you," he swallowed and closed his eyes tight, "if I begged Elrond to release you from your oath."

His heart stopped and his breath caught in his throat, ‘Beg? He is willing to beg his oldest enemy?' The fact that his beloved was willing to humble himself that much; to cast aside his pride and beg Elrond, the last person he would ever debase himself to, for his release, told Glorfindel all he ever needed to know about Thranduil's love for him. He looked up at him, "No, meleth nín, I could not bear to see you beg, not for anything. Please Thranduil, let me go; do not make me beg you."

Thranduil caressed his hair and lifted him from the floor by the chin, pulling him on top of himself and onto the bed. The sadness in his voice was palpable as he softly spoke, "Never, Glorfindel, I would never have you beg for anything," tears began to trickle from his eyes, "I will release you from my love if that is what you need. I would not have you turn your heart away from another and live your life alone. I am thankful for the brief time we have had together and for the few days we have left."

Glorfindel gazed into his deep blue eyes and whispered, "I will love no other, only you, for the rest of my life." He pressed a deep kiss to his lips and sighed into his mouth, wondering how he would live without this, without the love of his King, his friend. They had each bonded with the other without saying it, without formally participating in the ritual. Now Thranduil offered to release him from that bond, leaving him free to bond with another, but Glorfindel would not, not ever. The two made love throughout the evening and lay in each other's arms without sleeping.

Two days later the party from Lothlórien arrived and Glorfindel and his group prepared to depart. He went about the mundane task of packing supplies and preparing the horses in mind-numbing pain. He had but twelve hours more with his beloved, twelve short hours in which to experience the purest, deepest love he had known in his long life. Thranduil had been conspicuously absent from the preparations; Legolas had been filling in for him diplomatically. Glorfindel had not been alone with the King since he told him he was leaving. He tried hard to hide his feelings from his soldiers, from those around him but he feared it was impossible. He had not been able to sleep or eat for two days and the closer his departure came the more alone he felt, his heart weighted with despair. Haldir of Lórien approached him from behind, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, "My Lord Glorfindel, are you prepared for the journey tomorrow?"

He turned his gaze to the handsome Elf, and tried to manage a smile, "Yes, Haldir, we are prepared."

Haldir studied his eyes, his brow furrowed with worry, "It appears there is something left undone, unsaid. I can see it in your eyes. Perhaps you should attend to it. I will make sure things are finished here."

Glorfindel placed a knowing hand on his shoulder, realizing that Haldir saw what was in his heart, "Thank you. I will."

On his final night in Mirkwood he went to the chamber of his love and found him sitting silently in the great oak chair, dressed in the ceremonial robes he wore that first night when he took care of him. The King stared into the flickering light of the fire, his eyes clouded over with sorrow and longing, longing that had already taken hold despite the fact that Glorfindel was still there, for one more night anyway. He had tried to avoid the warrior, hoping that putting distance between them might help him to wean himself from the need he felt for his golden beauty, but it had not. Glorfindel approached him, kneeling at his feet and looking up into his once radiant face. He placed his hand on his King's knees, slowly drawing them apart and slid in between his legs. He placed one strong hand upon Thranduil's chest, next to his heart and took his lover's hand in his other, placing it upon his own heart. He whispered, "You will always live here, meleth nín, this will always belong to you." He leaned into the King, seeking his mouth with his own.

Thranduil lifted his weary arms and wrapped them around Glorfindel drawing him into a passionate kiss. Glorfindel rose from the chair and drew him to the bed, removing his garments as they crossed the room. Thranduil removed his lover's robe and ran his hands across his strong chest as he lowered him to the bed. "This will have to last me a long time, meleth nín, for there is no other that can compare to your beauty, no other that I can ever relish as much as you." With those words the King ravished his love, he made love to him for hours in ways that Glorfindel never imagined. Time and time again he brought him to impossible heights of passion and climax. After hours they lay side by side, their beautiful bodies covered in a slick sheen of sweat, their perfect skin flushed pink, their chests rose and fell in time with one another. They lay awake together holding each other as the morning sun began to rise. Thranduil rose with him, taking a bath with him before dressing in his lover's favorite clothes. He stood at the mirror in his plain green suede leggings, his silver tunic glittered in the morning light. He placed the last braid in his hair, carefully tucking it behind his ear and reached for his cloak, drawing it around his powerful shoulders. He turned and looked at Glorfindel, sitting on the side of the bed in the riding clothes he had his servants make him. He reached into a drawer and pulled out a small velvet pouch. He took a deep breath and the corners of his mouth curved into that disarming smile that Glorfindel loved so much. He extended his gloved hand and spoke, "Come, meldir, it is time to join the others. It is time for you to ride again." Glorfindel crossed the room to him and embraced him as a tear rolled down his face wetting Thranduil's tunic. The King smiled and lifted his chin so that their gazes met, "Come now, Glorfindel, is that any way for the great Balrog Slayer to act?"

Glorfindel laughed softly, he knew what Thranduil was doing, he was putting up a brave front to spare him the pain and guilt of the sorrow he knew he caused. "Yes, meleth nín, you are right as always. I am being foolish, always seeming to break down crying in your arms. But no longer, I draw my strength from you now. I am stronger than I was, the Valar save the poor creature that crosses me now." He laughed softly.

Thranduil laughed as well, "I do pity the poor thing that does." He swallowed his pride and somehow managed to choke the words out beneath the hate that swelled inside him at the thought of the Elf who took his love away, "Elrond is fortunate to have a warrior and friend as brave as you protecting him and his family." He opened the pouch removing a beautiful mithril ring. He smiled and whispered softly, "Here, meleth nín. Take this as a reminder of my love and friendship, they will always be with you," he slid the ring upon the warrior's finger and it fit perfectly. Thranduil laughed softly, "A perfect fit. I should have known. It is as perfect as you are." With that he placed his fingers upon Glorfindel's lips silencing any further words that may come from him and instead placed a passionate kiss, his last, upon the golden warrior's mouth. He sighed, running his fingers across his mouth, "Such lips, the first time I saw you I thought they begged to be kissed. Funny that it is I that has turned into the beggar. I shall miss these lips, meleth nín." He drew the Eldar out of his chamber and down the hall.

Thranduil stood upon the steps of his great manor and gazed at his radiant love sitting astride his white stallion. He raised his hand as they rode away, choking back the tears that welled up inside him as Glorfindel turned and looked at him one last time. As he rode away Thranduil watched the distance between them grow until nothing was left but the emptiness of his forest, which was so much darker now that he was gone. He turned to see Legolas standing behind him, his ever watchful, kind gaze upon his father. He placed his arm around him as they walked back into the palace and the silence of the empty house echoed their footsteps.

meldiramin = my friend
ada = father
ion = son
meldir = friend
melethron = lover
aran nin = my King
meleth nin = my love
a'maelamin = beloved
meleth nin = my love
amin mela le = I love you

*****

THE END

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