Resurrection 11

Resurrection

Part 11

Posted: October 27, 2006
Title: Resurrection
Author: Larien Elengasse

Summary: Erestor and Galdor’s friendship grows, as does the distance between him and Glorfindel.

****

Erestor lay between Galdor’s trembling thighs, his heart slowly returning to its normal rhythm, his skin tingling beneath the Sinda’s soft caress. ‘So that is what it is like,’ he thought to himself as he heard Galdor purr contentedly. Now he knew what it felt like to really join with another, and he also realized how much Celebrimbor had withheld from him, not to mention how much of himself he had been withholding from others. If Galdor never did another thing, he taught him that much – he taught him what it was like to truly trust and to share genuine affection.

Their joining had been a slow, gentle experience. Erestor had savored each moan, each arching undulation of Galdor’s body, each deliberate thrust into the Sinda’s delicious heat. The way Galdor’s fingers felt in his hair, the way his lips felt upon his own, the way his mouth tasted; each remarkable sensation still filled his mind and his body. His sated length slowly slipped from the Sinda’s form, and he felt the delectable slide of Galdor’s inner thighs against his hips as his friend’s legs slipped down. “That was…”

“So very good,” Galdor finished for him.

Erestor smiled and laughed softly. “Yes, my friend, it certainly was.” He rolled to the side and pulled Galdor closer. “Will you stay here with me?”

Galdor pushed Erestor’s dark hair away from his flushed face. “Aye, my darkling, I shall stay. One never knows what wonderful surprises may await us in the early morning hours.” He winked.

Erestor chuckled and tucked his head underneath Galdor’s chin. “Thank you, my friend. This is something I shall never forget.”

Galdor grinned. “Now that is quite a compliment. I always endeavor to be remarkable.” He kissed the top of Erestor’s head as his friend gave his waist a squeeze.

“That you are, Galdor, that you are,” Erestor murmured sleepily. He closed his eyes and drifted into reverie, feeling at peace in Galdor’s arms.

* * * *

As the weeks passed, Erestor and Galdor spent many hours together. Erestor learned much from Galdor, not only about himself and what he was capable of, but also of political matters. Galdor was an experienced negotiator and trusted adviser to Círdan, and Erestor considered the Sinda his mentor. From Galdor he learned the intricacies and difficulties of negotiating with men and dwarves, and he learned of the bravery and friendship between the Men of Númenor and the Noldor in particular. While Erestor knew there were close ties between their races, he learned things from Galdor that were not recorded in the history books.

Erestor also gained further understanding of the tenuous balance between the forces of good and evil, and he realized just how sheltered he was within Elrond’s haven, and had been under Celebrimbor’s tutelage. In the outside world, Sauron was gaining ground, being close to taking Eregion; if that happened, then it was only a matter of time before he found the Hidden Valley, and then their precious peace would be destroyed. Galdor informed him of the communication between Gil-galad and Tar-Minastir, the son of the Ruling Queen and general of Númenor’s armies. It would not be long before the Elves would need help in defeating Sauron, and it would fall to the Men of Númenor to lend aid.

In the weeks since the king’s arrival, Erestor had noticed a change in his assistant, Lindir. While Lindir was no less dedicated to his work, and was certainly an obedient assistant, the young one exuded a new confidence. The minstrel had an air of quiet assurance about him that Erestor sometimes envied. He wondered why Lindir had made so full and hale a recovery, both inside and out, after their abduction and subsequent rescue, when he himself seemed to still have a part deep inside that was wounded. Galdor was helping him with that, but he wondered if he would ever feel whole again.

He looked at Lindir thoughtfully. His young assistant was helping Galdor find ancient maps of the eastern lands and documents containing hidden passages to the south. The waning autumn sun filtered through the tall windows, illuminating his pale hair and luminescent skin. Lindir had never looked so beautiful to him. Erestor was not attracted to Lindir in a sexual way, but in the way that one wishes to reach out and touch a beautiful flower or a magnificent horse – it was an appreciation of beauty in its purest and most natural form. He loved Lindir like a brother; they had been through much together and formed a close bond of friendship. He knew that Lindir and Glorfindel had become lovers since the night of Gil-galad’s arrival, though they were being somewhat discrete about it.

He had not seen Glorfindel for more than brief moments since that night, owing to the warrior’s duties, which kept him away from the Last Lonely House for sometimes weeks at a time, and there seemed to be an awkward gulf growing between them. As of late, Glorfindel had been away for a week inspecting the guard posts at the borders, and Gildor had taken up the task of training the recruits; Imladris was quietly preparing for war.

He was standing near the tome that catalogued every item within the library, his distracted gaze focused on Lindir rather than the book, when he heard a familiar voice.

“Hard at work again, I see.”

He turned to see Glorfindel standing behind him, a smile curving the Elda’s lips. The warrior’s boots and the hem of his cloak were soiled, yet he had taken the time to clean what mud would come off his boots before entering the house. His cheeks were flushed from the brisk autumn air and his hair flowed wildly around his shoulders. It was clear he had just returned from the outskirts of Imladris. He could not help but return the warm greeting; Glorfindel’s smile always caused him to smile in return.

“Aye, as usual. I was just trying to discern whether or not Lindir needed my assistance.” He reached out for the warrior’s hand. “’Tis good to have you home, Glorfindel.”

Glorfindel accepted the proffered hand; it was such a strange gesture between two friends who had lately been so close. “’Tis good to be home, my friend,” he answered.

“Glorfindel!”

He looked up to see Lindir’s smiling face, and he left Erestor’s company for his lover’s arms.

Erestor felt a sharp pang in his heart. He had wanted to reach out and embrace the Elda. What had stopped him? He missed those arms that had so often held him both in friendship and in a more intimate way. He turned and entered his office, hoping no one saw the expression upon his face.

He caught sight of the pair as they left the library hand in hand, then soon afterward, Galdor appeared in his office doorway.

“When, Erestor? When are you going to tell him what is in your heart?”

“And I suppose you know what that is?” Erestor asked sardonically.

“You know I do,” Galdor answered matter-of-factly.

“You see that they are lovers now. I hardly think it would be appropriate…”

“Since when is love appropriate?” Galdor queried. “You know what is coming, Erestor. Soon none of us will have a certain future – do not wait until…”

“Please, I beg you, do not speak of such a thing.” Erestor closed his eyes and began rubbing his temples.

“I care about you, Erestor. You know I only do this out of love.”

“I would not hurt Lindir, nor would I risk damaging my friendship with Glorfindel.”

Galdor sighed. “Very well, but sooner or later, your heart will have its say.” He turned and departed the library, leaving Erestor alone with his thoughts.

* * * *

The door to Glorfindel’s chamber had no sooner closed than the warrior found himself being dragged toward the bed and undressed.

“Valar, I have missed you so much; I have worried about you so much…” Lindir quickly worked the clasps on his lover’s tunic after discarding Glorfindel’s cloak.

Glorfindel’s hands roamed the minstrel’s long back, his fingers hungrily clutching at his lover’s firm, round backside. “Mmm… not as much I missed you, I wager,” he murmured into Lindir’s ear. “Have you been a good songbird while I have been away?”

“Not at all,” Lindir breathed as Glorfindel’s tunic fell away and his fingers quickly unlaced his lover’s breeches. “I have thought about you and touched myself nearly every night since you left.”

“Well, as long as it was me you were thinking of,” Glorfindel purred, then he ran his tongue over the point of Lindir’s ear. “Ai! Sparrow…” he moaned as Lindir’s long fingers wrapped around his burgeoning arousal. “You did miss me…”

With his free hand, Lindir grasped a handful of Glorfindel’s hair. “I told you I did,” he purred, and then he covered Glorfindel’s mouth with his own in a deep kiss. “I want you to take me, hard,” he murmured, as his lips briefly left those of his lover.

“You need not ask me twice,” Glorfindel replied, quickly divesting Lindir of his garments, then lifting his lithe lover and playfully tossing him upon the bed.

* * * *

Lindir lay upon his back, propped up in a half-sitting position by the thick pillows on Glorfindel’s bed. His lover was sleeping soundly on his stomach, his golden head resting on Lindir’s chest. Lindir’s legs were draped over the warrior’s hips and he slowly ran his fingers through Glorfindel’s thick, wavy, golden mane, languidly picking up a strand and letting it slip through his fingers. He closed his eyes and smiled as his lover softly moaned and snuggled closer to him, the feel of the Elda’s battle-toughened hands under his shoulder blades was comforting; it was as though Glorfindel were clinging to him.

“Aye, my love,” he whispered. “I am here and will always be here, for you.” He placed a soft kiss upon the crown of the warrior’s golden head. A soft, unsettled moan came from Glorfindel’s lips and he felt his lover’s body tighten ever so subtly. “Nightmares again, my warrior?” he whispered. “Here, let me see them.”

He closed his eyes and tried to find that link that they shared when they made love, that reciprocal flow of emotion, sensation, and sometimes thought. He could not find it, not while his partner was passive – it required both of them to reach out to the other, he supposed. He soothed his lover’s troubled form by slowly rubbing circles upon his muscled back while continuing to comb through his hair with his fingers. “There now, that is better. Sleep, love. You are home and you are safe.”

“Sparrow?” his lover whispered.

“Yes, my love, ‘tis I,” he answered.

“Mmm… I had a bad dream,” Glorfindel murmured.

“Tell me of it,” Lindir answered.

“I dreamt I was back in Gondolin. The city was falling and you were there, as was Erestor and Gildor. I saw Gildor fall, and only you and Erestor were left.”

“What happened then?” Lindir asked softly, placing gentle kisses upon Glorfindel’s head.

“I do not know,” Glorfindel answered. “I woke.” He slowly rose to look into Lindir’s eyes. “I do not ever want you to leave this place, Lindir. You will always be safe here; I want you to always be safe.”

Lindir smiled at him. “I will be, as long as I am with you.”

“Promise me.”

Lindir caressed Glorfindel’s face. “I promise.”

Glorfindel reached up and kissed his young lover, the soft moan that escaped Lindir’s lips caused his body to reawaken. “I need this,” he murmured against the minstrel’s lips.

“It is always yours for the taking,” Lindir whispered in reply, and then he threaded his fingers in Glorfindel’s hair as his lover kissed him deeply.

*****

previous | Chapter Index | next

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Larien Elengasse