Resurrection 10

Resurrection

Part 10

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

Summary: Lindir and Glorfindel become one, Galdor and Erestor get to know one another better.

*****

Lindir closed his eyes and lifted his hips, allowing Glorfindel to remove his loincloth. He could feel himself trembling and he made no effort to stop it. He was not afraid, not really; he was more excited and nervous than anything else. As Glorfindel lowered himself to lie between his legs, he felt a surge of emotion. He bent his knees and wrapped his legs around the warrior’s own, and wrapped his slender arms around Glorfindel’s torso, his long fingers gripping the Elda’s back. He did not dare speak for fear of saying something foolish, like professing his undying love; it was too soon, and Glorfindel had not yet had time to see him in that light. ‘Wait, Lindir’ he told himself, ‘wait until the time is right.’

“Inside me,” he whispered. “Please, I need to feel you inside me.”

“We must proceed slowly, sparrow,” Glorfindel murmured into the crook of Lindir’s neck and shoulder. “There is so much to enjoy along the way.”

“All right,” Lindir answered. “I will try to be patient.” Glorfindel chuckled and it tickled Lindir’s skin. He laughed softly and squeezed the Elda’s powerful body tighter. “Thank you for this, Glorfindel,” he said quietly.

Glorfindel took Lindir’s face in his hands and smiled. “Thank you, Lindir, for trusting me.”

Lindir smiled, then he closed his eyes and sighed as Glorfindel’s lips closed on his ear.

* * * *

The tapestry rocked and flapped against the wall as Galdor’s back came into rough contact with it. Grunts and feral growls echoed in Erestor’s bedchamber as they grappled with one another’s garments. Erestor’s undershirt ripped in Galdor’s fist and he hissed as dark elf’s hand slid inside his leggings, grasping his arousal without preamble. “And here I thought of you as the more yielding type,” he groaned as Erestor marked the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

Erestor smiled then laved the bruised flesh with his tongue. “Those days are far behind me now, my friend.”

“Lucky me,” Galdor murmured playfully, then grunted as Erestor pulled him from the wall and then pushed him to the bed. “Do you intend to teach me a lesson in servility?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

Erestor flung his torn shirt to the floor and quickly removed his leggings. “Do you wish me to? Do you like it rough, Galdor?” He climbed upon the bed, grasping Galdor’s wrists and pulling them over the Sinda’s head.

Galdor did not fight Erestor, but the raw emotions that he felt coursing through his new friend concerned him. “If I said I did, would you use me as he used you?” he asked softly.

Erestor froze, his hands tightening upon Galdor’s wrists as he cringed at the implication.

Galdor paused as he sensed something else – it was guilt. “Would you use me as you used Glorfindel?”

“Stop it.”

“Am I wrong? If I am, please tell me.”

“Stop.”

“Stop what? I cannot stop, Erestor. I am not seeking this, your feelings are washing over me like a massive wave.” He cocked his head. “Being like him will not make you feel better about yourself, you know this.” Erestor lay down on top of him, releasing his wrists, a deep resigned sigh escaping his lips.

“What will?”

“The belief and knowledge that you are better than that, that you are stronger, that you are wiser…” Erestor laughed sardonically and Galdor cocked his head, trying to see the Noldo’s face. “Why do you laugh?”

“Me? Better than Celebrimbor? Wiser than the most brilliant smith since Fëanor? Stronger than the one who resisted the Dark Lord, even to the end of his life?” He closed his eyes. “No, no, my friend, I am afraid you are mistaken. I am not, nor ever will be, better than him.”

Galdor sighed. “My dear Erestor. When will you see? True, Celebrimbor was a brilliant talent; but, he was also an ordinary elf, plagued with weakness and doubt, prone to vanity, seduced by idle flattery.” He smoothed Erestor’s dark hair. “You are unique, Erestor – you are your own elf, there is not another like you in all the world. Rather than try to be someone else, is it not time you learned who you are yourself?”

“I thought I knew that already.”

“Nay, you know what he told you, but not what you have discovered yourself. Did you not tell me that he scoffed at your talent for mechanical things?”

“Aye, he thought it common, though I suspect he was a little proud, even if he would not admit it.”

“Would you call this house common?”

Erestor raised his head and looked into the Sinda’s pale eyes. “No, I would not.”

“This house is by your design, Erestor. You saw it come to fruition. This was no common effort; it was an extraordinary effort by a brilliant elf – one who finally is free of Celebrimbor’s shadow.” He caressed Erestor’s cheek. “Do not let your life here be ruled by what transpired in the past. Live now, Erestor, be who I know you are, who you have yet to discover.”

Erestor smiled a bit sadly and reached up to touch Galdor’s cheek. “Forgive me, my friend. You are so kind and I have repaid that kindness with rough treatment.”

Galdor smiled in return. “Ah, not so rough. I rather like a little spanking and tickling now and again.” He winked.

Erestor laughed. “Shall I tickle you then? Spank you?”

Galdor purred like a cat. “Mmm…. yes, please.” He reached up, grasping the head of Erestor’s bed in his hands as the Noldo’s mouth moved to the pit of his arm. He gasped and moaned softly as Erestor’s lips explored the tender flesh there. “Oh, my . . . I do like that.”

“You have the most wonderful scent,” Erestor murmured as he nuzzled the tender flesh. “It is rather woodsy.”

Galdor began to slowly move against Erestor, wrapping his legs around the Noldo’s hips. “I would yield to you, if you promise to respect what I give you.”

Erestor turned his head and looked into Galdor’s eyes. “Always. Your trust is a precious gift, my friend.”

“Then you have it, and me.”

Erestor moved so that their lips were almost touching. “I swear to you, I will not abuse this gift.”

“I know,” Galdor whispered as he threaded his fingers in Erestor’s heavy, dark locks. He drew the Noldo’s lips to his own and kissed him deeply.

* * * *

Lindir lay on his stomach, trembling like a fawn caught by a wolf. Glorfindel knelt over him, the warrior’s powerful body moved against him, flesh against flesh, lips and tongue leisurely exploring his ear as the Elda’s turgid length slid into the cleft of his buttocks. He wadded the bed sheets in his fists as he arched and undulated against Glorfindel’s larger and heavier form, his swollen length trapped between their combined weight and the sheets. This long, slow exploration was surely going to be his demise.

“Please,” he whispered softly, sighing as Glorfindel nuzzled his neck.

“Ai, sparrow,” Glorfindel murmured. “Would you begrudge me this opportunity to savor your beauty?”

“I am aching for you,” Lindir answered.

“That is part of the experience,” Glorfindel returned. “Savor it, my songbird. Savor the ache knowing that what is to come is even sweeter.”

“I have waited so long for this, Glorfindel,” Lindir softly replied. “I would not begrudge you what you want, but it is so difficult to wait.”

Glorfindel smiled and kissed the soft, smooth plane of skin between Lindir’s shoulder blades. “You have not long to wait,” he murmured as he moved lower. His gaze took in the long line of Lindir’s back, the smoothness of his skin, the way his lithe body moved beneath him. He grasped the young one’s hips, encouraging him to rise to his knees; then he gently spread him, leaned down, and circled Lindir’s entrance with his tongue. The ragged gasp that escaped Lindir’s lips caused Glorfindel to purr in appreciation. Deflowering a young male was always a lovely experience; but this time, he suspected it would be lovelier than most. He delved inside Lindir’s body with his tongue and heard the choked cry of pleasure that escaped the minstrel’s lips.

Lindir gasped then cried out as Glorfindel’s tongue breached him. After recovering from the initial shock, he pressed back against the warrior’s face, desperate to feel more. It was warm and wet, slickly sliding in and out of his body, causing his arousal to twitch and ache. After a few delicious moments, that wonderful tongue withdrew and he felt an oiled finger enter his body. He flinched, and then willed himself to relax to the not altogether unpleasant sensation. Just as his breathing became regular, a sensation that nearly defied explanation exploded inside his body. His blood turned to fire, every muscle simultaneously tightened, and he arched his back, crying out in ecstasy. No sooner than he began to recover, it happened again, and he blindly reached out and grasped the head of the warrior’s bed. In the fog of pleasure he did not notice that a second finger was added to the first, he only felt himself being spread open as fire roared through his body and his arousal threatened to spill. He felt Glorfindel’s soft, warm breath upon his ear.

“There will be pain, I cannot spare you that. Should you wish me to stop, or should you change your mind, you have but to say so and I will stop. There are many, many other ways in which you and I can explore one another.”

Lindir nodded. “I understand, Glorfindel,” he whispered raggedly. “I know pain and I am not afraid of it. I trust you.”

“That is a gift I shall always treasure, sparrow,” Glorfindel murmured. He reached out and turned Lindir’s head so that their lips met. “You and I are about to become one,” he said softly against Lindir’s mouth. “Do not be afraid of the joining, do not be afraid to lose yourself to it.” He kissed Lindir’s sweet lips. “Things will always be different between us after this, Lindir. You and I will always be linked, one to the other.”

Lindir smiled as he felt tears sting his eyes. “I can think of nothing I would rather feel,” he answered softly.

“Breathe, my songbird,” Glorfindel murmured. “Breathe and do not fight the pain, nor the joining.”

Lindir nodded and Glorfindel moved away, positioning himself on his knees behind Lindir.

As he was breached, Lindir drew a ragged gasp, his wide eyes unfocused, his long fingers gripping the smooth wood of the headboard with all his might. He was unable to cry out, unable to move; he was pierced, feeling as though he would split wide open. He heard Glorfindel’s deep, honeyed voice murmur, “Breathe.” He exhaled in a ragged out rush of air, then drew another rough breath. There was no doubt that it was painful, but there was more to it than that. The experience was not as painful as what happened to him in Ost-in-Edhil; what took his breath away was that he felt himself begin to change.

Glorfindel was inside him, physically and spiritually. He felt the warrior’s power, his bravery, his valiant and strong heart, his kindness, the affection that Glorfindel held for him; it was as if the two of them were indeed one.

Glorfindel felt the rush of emotion that emanated from Lindir; there was no fear, only overwhelming warmth. All the kindness and optimism in Lindir’s heart flooded his ancient soul; his sparrow’s pure spirit gave comfort to him. His hands softly caressed Lindir’s lean back, sliding through the sweat that beaded on the minstrel’s skin. He leaned forward, his lips close to Lindir’s ear as he whispered, “Are you well?”

“I cannot believe it,” Lindir whispered. “I feel so much…”

Glorfindel smiled. “It only gets better from here, my gentle Lindir. You feel so good, in every way.”

“Have me,” Lindir whispered, “please…”

Glorfindel flexed his hips, slowly withdrawing a small amount before delving back inside. “Oh, I shall, my sparrow, and you shall have all of me.”

Slowly he began to move, feeling Lindir’s body relax around his turgid length. He reached for the minstrel’s rigid arousal and slowly began to stroke it, his fist gliding through the opalescent fluid that leaked from the tip. Lindir’s moans were the most sensual, beautiful music he had ever heard; the minstrel had a voice that he suspected could melt even the coldest heart. He angled for his mark, then found it, causing the most beautiful, most heartbreaking cry his ears had ever witnessed to erupt from Lindir’s throat, and his lover began moving with him, thrusting into his fist before rocking back onto him.

He was taken aback at the intensity of their joining. Lindir’s emotions flooded his mind and his heart, and his own flowed freely back. Again, he struck his mark, and Lindir’s untried body could take no more as Glorfindel felt the minstrel’s seed spill over his fist. Lindir was utterly relaxed and he moved freely, delving deeper, faster, his own impending fall coming ever closer. He gripped Lindir’s shoulders, thrusting deep, his lips caressing the minstrel’s ear, his gaze taking in his beautiful, flushed face and the exquisite smile that curved his sparrow’s lips. “More,” his lover whispered, and he pushed ever deeper, their bodies rocking together, their moans mingling with one another. It started deep in his core, and then roared through his body; he cried out as he thrust deep, spilling inside Lindir, gripping the minstrel’s hips as his length twitched and danced inside his lover’s body. Slowly his climax subsided and he realized he was trembling himself. It had been a long time since he had felt so much, despite his many lovers over the years.

Slowly he withdrew and moved to lay beside Lindir, gathering the minstrel’s long, lean body in his arms. He brushed the damp hair away from his sweet face, the blissful smile that curved Lindir’s lips cause a smile to bloom upon his own. “Are you well?” he whispered. It was a moot question, for the expression upon Lindir’s face said all.

Lindir snuggled close, wrapping his long arms around Glorfindel’s waist. “I cannot describe it,” he murmured. “It was the most beautiful thing I have ever experienced.”

Glorfindel kissed the top of Lindir’s head. “Aye, that it was, sparrow,” he answered. “Thank you for choosing me.”

“There was no other choice, really,” Lindir replied with a smile.

Glorfindel chuckled. “Now you flatter me, but I have never been averse to flattery.”

Lindir laughed in response and pressed a kiss to the warrior’s chest. “May I sleep here?”

“Of course. Holding you in my arms shall be the cause of many a peaceful dream, I think.”

“Then dream on, my warrior,” Lindir murmured as he began to slide quickly into reverie. “I hope to be the cause of many a good dream for you.” He yawned and sighed, then surrendered to sleep.

*****

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