Resurrection 6

Resurrection

Part 6

Posted: October 6, 2006
Title: Resurrection
Author: Larien Elengasse

Summary: Erestor and Glorfindel discover a new dimension to their friendship.

*****

“Oohhh…” Erestor purred. “It is warm.” He gasped. “Oh, oh… and so is your tongue.”

Glorfindel smiled as he lapped up the honey from his friend’s body. “And it is sweet, just like you.” Erestor snorted and Glorfindel chuckled. “Yes, I suppose that was rather…”

“Saccharine?”

Glorfindel nipped Erestor’s hip as his friend laughed. “All right, so I am not a poet.”

“No, you are not, but you are an incredible lover,” Erestor breathed, as a warm mouth softly kissed his chest. “Never, in all of my days, has anyone kissed me or touched me the way you do.”

“Now that is a travesty,” Glorfindel murmured. “For I can think of few who deserve it as well as you.”

Erestor closed his eyes. “Sometimes, I wonder what it is that I deserve,” he whispered.

Glorfindel furrowed his brow and looked into Erestor’s face. “Why would you say such a thing?”

Erestor shook his head, his eyes still closed. “Forget that I did…”

Glorfindel took Erestor’s jaw in his hand. “I will not. Now, open your eyes and look at me.”

Erestor reluctantly opened his eyes and gazed into Glorfindel’s large, azure depths.

“You are intelligent, imaginative, selfless, kind, and brilliant, Erestor. You are my best friend, and I do not say that lightly.”

“I know, I am sorry,” Erestor began.

“I do not know what Celebrimbor did to you those last days, but I can promise you it was not your fault. He was driven to the brink of madness by the Dark Lord.”

A tear fell from Erestor’s eye and Glorfindel gently kissed it. “He was not an easy elf, Erestor. He had a hard heart, just like his father and grandfather.”

“Must we talk about this?” Erestor whispered.

“Whatever happened hangs heavy on your heart. You cannot be free to give it unless you unburden it first.”

“I know, but not now, not yet…”

“All right,” Glorfindel murmured. “But soon; do it before your heart grows cold, like his.”

Erestor nodded. “Kiss me, I love the way you kiss me,” he whispered.

“Aye, I will,” Glorfindel purred, then covered Erestor’s lips with his own.

* * * *

Erestor began arranging his desk with the various gifts he had received upon his appointment to the role of Head Librarian. Lord Elrond had given him a beautiful crystal inkwell, and Gildor had presented him with a carved, inlaid wooden box to keep sheets of parchment. His dear friend Glorfindel had given him a set of elegant quills made from the feathers of Eagles; the Elda jokingly referred to them as Gwaihir’s and Landroval’s reluctant contributions. Erestor had laughed when Glorfindel relayed the conversation he had with the great birds when asking them for such a gift. When Erestor asked how he finally convinced them, Glorfindel had merely winked and said, “They love me.” Erestor imagined that was true, for he loved the Elda himself – he was exceedingly easy to love.

His first order of business was to hire an assistant, and then he would need to start interviewing scribes to work at the back of the library. Copying texts was ongoing work, for ink and parchment could only last so long, and he was determined not to lose any of the works to time. He would also need artists that could copy drawings perfectly, losing or changing nothing in in the process. In addition to the already substantial duties of Head Librarian, he also would start sitting in on council meetings and then meeting with Elrond afterward so that he could gain context for the discussions in those meetings, at least until he was familiar with the political aspects of his role on the council.

He and Glorfindel were spending less time together, owing to their duties: Glorfindel was head of Imladris’ defenses as well as being a senior member of Elrond’s council, and he was training an entire new regiment of recruits that came from as far away as Lindon. The Hidden Valley was already well known throughout Elvendom, and there were many who wished to serve under the king’s favorite advisor and herald. However, Erestor and Glorfindel still found stolen moments to be together.

He had yet to find the courage to tell his entire story to Glorfindel; he could not explain it, but he was certain the Elda would care for him less when Glorfindel learned of all the ways he served Celebrimbor. He still carried shame from those final days, of how he allowed Celebrimbor to use him – he was certain he could have refused and left, yet he had lacked the courage to do so then. That cowardice was a barrier between him and Glorfindel. He was unsure where they stood, other than being close friends and sometime lovers, and he imagined they would never be more than that until he could find the courage to be forthright.

A soft knock upon his door caused him to look up, and he saw Lindir standing in the doorway, carrying a tray with a fresh pot of tea and warm, freshly baked blackberry scones.

“Mae govannen, Erestor,” the young Noldo said. “Might I come in?”

“Of course, Lindir.” Erestor rose and motioned toward the chairs by the fireplace. “Please, sit. How wonderful! These scones smell delicious.”

Lindir smiled as he set down the tray and poured a cup of tea for Erestor. “I was hoping I could speak with you about…”

Erestor accepted the proffered cup of tea, looking up at Lindir with a smile. “About what?”

Lindir cleared his throat as he poured his own tea. “About being your assistant.” He cast a sideways glance at Erestor and quickly began: “I know I am young, but I am a quick learner. My duties as Lead Minstrel would not interfere with my work here, and I know you need help. You and I get along so well, I thought…”

Erestor chuckled and held up his hand. “Peace, my friend,” he said softly. “Sit down first.”

Lindir sat down across from Erestor and nervously sipped his tea.

“Would you like to know the details of the position?”

Lindir nodded.

“Well, I need someone to help me with record keeping, which is less than exciting but a necessary component of the responsibilities here. I also need someone who can help me with cataloging the many volumes of work currently in our care. What would be wonderful is someone with an eye for detail, for I will need help interviewing and supervising the many scribes that will be employed here. Eventually, I would like my assistant to know everything that I do, so that when my services are required elsewhere, as in council, they can effectively run the library without my supervision – this of course would come with time.” He smiled as he saw the twinkle in Lindir’s eye. “You love books, do you not?”

Lindir nodded. “Aye, as much as I love music.”

“Does this position sound like one that would make you happy?”

“Yes, very much,” Lindir answered with a broad smile.

“Then, Lindir, my friend, you are my new assistant.”

“Thank you, Erestor!” Lindir exclaimed. “You will not regret this decision, I promise!”

“I am sure I will not,” Erestor answered with a smile. “Now, our first order of business is to find some scribes. How do you think we should do this?”

Lindir set down his cup of tea and leaned forward in his chair, his mind already swimming with ideas.

* * * *

Lindir strolled down the path that led past the armory and training fields on his way to the stables. He stopped, holding tight to the stack of bills in his hand, and watched the new recruits training under Glorfindel’s supervision. Glorfindel turned and saw Lindir, raising his hand in greeting, then waiving him over.

“Mae govannen, Lindir!” he said with a smile. “What brings you to the armory?”

“I was on my way to the stables, my lord. I must ride to the lower valley to post these bills.”

Glorfindel plucked a sheet of parchment from Lindir’s stack. “Ah, seeking scribes…” he murmured. “I suggest the western-most settlements, for they contain the newest arrivals from Lindon, you might find someone there.”

Lindir bowed his head. “Thank you for the advice, my lord.”

“I will keep this one and post it inside. There are always one or two ellon that find military life not as glamorous as they thought it would be.” He winked.

Lindir smiled. “I cannot imagine passing up the opportunity to train with the great Glorfindel.”

Glorfindel snorted. “Now, what have I told you about calling me that, little sparrow…”

Lindir smiled and blushed. “I was merely teasing – although I do think you are great.”

“And I think you are marvelous, songbird.” He bestowed a peck upon the crown of Lindir’s head. “Now, pick a sure-footed mount, and mind the staircase.”

“Yes, my lord,” Lindir answered as he continued down the path toward the stable, doe-eyed from his encounter with the elf who often featured in his dreams.

* * * *

It was late as Erestor made his way down the corridor toward his chamber. He had missed the evening meal, though Lindir had brought him a plate and some wine afterward. He rubbed his shoulders and his neck as he reached his door, then he pushed it open and stepped inside, nearly dropping the book he carried with him when he entered.

Stretched across his bed was Glorfindel. His friend was entirely nude, laying on his stomach and looking back over his shoulder with a sensual grin curving his perfect lips. “An elf cannot live on work and food alone, my friend,” the Elda murmured.

Erestor grinned broadly. “Aye, this is true.” He set the book down and began removing his robes. “I have been working entirely too hard.”

“That makes for a tense Erestor,” Glorfindel murmured as he winked. “Why do you not work that tension out on me, hmmm?” He shifted upon the bed and spread his legs a little.

Erestor raised an eyebrow; this was yet a new dimension to their bed play – Glorfindel had never offered himself like this before. He shed his breeches and loincloth, and then mounted the bed, feeling his arousal stir before he even touched his friend’s body. “Are you certain? I did not think you liked…”

Glorfindel propped his head upon one hand. “To play the sheath? Oh, I have been known to enjoy it now and again. Being ridden can be quite pleasurable, after all.” He hissed as Erestor kissed one of his buttocks. “Ah yes, my raven, your gentle touch pleases me much, but do not be afraid to be more . . . possessive, should the mood strike you.”

Erestor trembled a little and closed his eyes, banishing dark thoughts from his mind. “Do you like it rough?” he murmured.

“Sometimes, a little.” Glorfindel winked. “Do not forget, this body is accustomed to blows and falls; a little spanking, a little grabbing, some rough riding is not nearly so uncomfortable as a good, hard hit with a training sword or a lance.”

“I shall endeavor to please you as best I may,” Erestor murmured, “and take my own pleasure in return.” He lay against Glorfindel’s back, slowly rolling his groin against the warrior’s backside as he reached across to his bedside table. He withdrew a slip of black silk and smiled. “Shall I tie you up, my lion?”

Glorfindel growled playfully then moaned softly as Erestor’s lips suckled the point of his ear. “Yes, my raven, I would like that.”

Erestor bound Glorfindel’s wrists together over his head and tied them off to the headboard, and then he sat on the warrior’s backside as he prepared himself with oil. His hands were trembling – he had never taken another before, though he had been taken himself enough to know both the right and the wrong way to go about it. He was hard as he spread the oil along his length and watched Glorfindel’s muscles dance beneath his alabaster flesh as the warrior undulated beneath him. It was the most erotic sight he had ever witnessed, that strong body bound beneath him, waiting to be taken and possessed, ridden hard and driven to the ends of ecstasy.

“Up,” he said in a commanding tone that surprised even him, and he spanked Glorfindel’s hip. His arousal twitched as the Elda slowly and seductively rose to his knees and looked back over his shoulder. “Yes, master,” Glorfindel purred, and it caused his length to twitch again; the power he felt was intoxicating. He slid two fingers inside the Elda’s body and felt him flinch away as he gasped. “Aaaahh…” Glorfindel groaned, then he settled and began to take deep breaths. Erestor opened his mouth to apologize for the unceremonious breaching, but for some reason, the words would not come out.

Instead, his eyes took in the way Glorfindel’s body moved beneath him, his ears drunk in the sound of his moans, his soft pleas for more. He continued to stretch Glorfindel, preparing him as quickly as possible for the taking, ignoring the Elda’s quiet requests to touch him. Spreading Glorfindel’s fine, muscular buttocks wide, he placed the tip of his turgid and pulsing arousal at the Elda’s entrance, and with a deep growl, pushed inside.

A ragged cry escaped Glorfindel’s lips, followed by a deep, needful moan. Erestor did not wait; without preamble, he began to slowly ride the warrior’s strong body as he gripped Glorfindel’s hips tightly in his hands. His pace increased quickly, and he reached around and grasped Glorfindel’s rigid and weeping arousal, fisting it and dragging him over the edge. Glorfindel cried out and spilled upon the bed, and Erestor continued to ride him, memories of his own voice crying out as Celebrimbor had once rode him, mingling with Glorfindel’s deep and aching moans.

He slammed deep inside the warrior’s body, wrenching a deep groan from Glorfindel, then he spilled himself deep inside and collapsed upon the warrior’s sweat-slicked back. His ragged breathing caressed the warrior’s back and his trembling hands attempted to soothe the rough treatment he had just doled out. Glorfindel did not say a word; he merely lay still and allowed Erestor this attempt at gentleness.

As Erestor recovered, he felt a tear fall from his eye, and he placed a kiss upon the back of Glorfindel’s shoulder. All the kind, gentle, loving kisses and caresses his warrior-friend had bestowed upon him were repaid with rough, carnal taking. This seemed to reaffirm his belief that he would never deserve Glorfindel’s love.

“I am sorry,” he murmured.

“I am fine, Erestor,” Glorfindel answered softly, “though my arms are beginning to tingle.”

Erestor roused himself and untied Glorfindel’s wrists, and then was shocked when the Elda rolled over and gathered him into his arms.

“I believe it is safe to assume you have properly worked out your tension?” Glorfindel murmured, as he stroked Erestor’s raven hair.

“That was not what I intended,” Erestor said quietly.

“Nor what I expected, but it was what I offered,” Glorfindel answered. “Do not fret, my raven,” he whispered into Erestor’s hair, “I am not harmed. I doubt I will sit a horse upon the morrow, but other than that, all is well…”

“Oh, gods, Glorfindel,” Erestor answered, his voice thick with unshed tears.

“Now, now, my dark beauty, I am merely teasing. Do not think that you were the first to bed me so . . . enthusiastically. I promise you, I am not harmed, and I most certainly received pleasure from it.”

Erestor lifted his head and looked into Glorfindel’s eyes. “Are you sure?”

Glorfindel pushed Erestor’s hair out of his face. “Quite. Now, sleep, my friend. We both have much to do come tomorrow.”

Erestor closed his eyes and settled his head upon Glorfindel’s shoulder, embarking upon a fitful night of sleep.

*****

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