The Song Of Sunset
18. Leaving the Nest Part Three
“Come in, my son,” Oropher called. Thranduil barged in and shut the door behind him. His father was poring over official correspondence, an expression of abject boredom on his austere face.
“Ada,” Thranduil laughed, “I will do it later. Paper work does not agree with you.”
“You have already seen her,” Oropher scrutinized his son, “Is half the Lórien guard behind you?”
Thranduil said in a long-suffering tone, “Why, Ada, do you always expect me to bring trouble to your doorstep?”
Oropher smirked saying, “You are predictable, my son. Now, what is it? I was about to retire. The correspondence has made me sleepy.”
Thranduil took out the scroll from within his tunic and handed it to his father, who curiously opened it.
It was an oil painting. Of Oropher and his son. Oropher remembered the day, it was Gil-Galad’s bonding ceremony. Thranduil was standing in a posture of aggression; his green eyes flashing with ire, the painter had truly captured the magnificent golden hair that clashed against his rich, green robes. Oropher’s eyes lingered over his son’s depiction awhile before moving onto his own figure. He wore light blue satin robes that made him look less world-weary. He was standing in a defensive stance. Whoever the painter was, they had truly understood his desire to protect his son from the world. He could not help noticing the stark difference between his son’s aggression and his defensive stance.
Thranduil murmured, “She is a good painter, is she not, Ada?”
“Yes,” Oropher said softly, “And she understands us entirely.”
Glorfindel whispered as they reached his chamber door, “This is folly.”
“Then there is much pleasure to be found in folly,” Aldor said laughing as he opened the door and walked in, “Glorfindel! This is wonderful!”
Glorfindel looked around, his cream wall décor had been despoiled by huge bunches of fragrant red roses stuck onto the walls. The bed, his very normal bed, was littered with rose petals and silken cushions. He made a mental note to stuff all the flowers down Erestor’s throat the first thing tomorrow.
Aldor was saying awestruck, “You actually meant to talk with me about this! I had not believed it then.”
Glorfindel smiled saying, “ , I never lie,” but Erestor does liberally, he mentally added.
Aldor drew closer and said huskily, “Let us then hide our desires no longer, My Lord Glorfindel.”
The intoxicating masculine scent of the man assailed Glorfindel’s sensitive elven nostrils and he hungrily captured Aldor’s mouth. The lips were not soft like those of elves. They were hard, hot and full. Glorfindel lost control as Aldor bit and nibbled at his lower lip passionately before nudging open the elf’s mouth with his tongue and thrusting inside. No elf had kissed Glorfindel thus before, with so much passion and strength. Glorfindel felt himself drown in the kiss. He forced his tongue to duel for dominance, but in vain as Aldor’s ale flavoured tongue roughly explored the deepest recesses in Glorfindel’s mouth.
Glorfindel said hoarsely as they broke apart for breath, “Bed.” He was not sure that his knees could bear him any longer if Aldor continued this assault on his senses. He had never felt such strong desire for another. His love making was preferably slow and pleasant. But Aldor had no patience in this as in all else. Glorfindel realized that this would be rough and passionate in a way he had never experienced earlier. And strangely, he found himself excited by that.
Aldor complied and pushed him onto the bed before landing atop him. The human roughly pulled up Glorfindel’s tunic and shoved it away before swooping down to bite and suckle on the long, pale, elven throat. Glorfindel moaned in desire as the blood rushed to his loins. Aldor moved downwards, pinching and suckling Glorfindel’s nipples. Glorfindel arched with the sensation of exquisite pain and pleasure.
The human king gripped Glorfindel’s waist with one hand tightly before pushing down the elf’s leggings with the other. He greedily swallowed Glorfindel’s erection whole as soon as it protruded out completely.
Glorfindel’s face convulsed as he gasped, “Why are you in such a hurry?”
“I have waited a long time,” Aldor whispered before moving his mouth up and down Glorfindel’s erection. Predictably, Glorfindel climaxed quickly. He panted heavily, trying to clear his head as he wondered about humans’ impatience.
Aldor hastily disrobed and crept onto the bed beside him whispering, “Please, take me.”
Glorfindel suppressed a snort as he explained, “My impatient friend, you have already made me come. However, you are yet to find release. Take me.”
Aldor’s features betrayed his uncertainty as he said, “I cannot. I might hurt you with my impatience.”
“You might,” Glorfindel agreed, “I am an elf, and healing is one thing I can do faster than you. So it will not matter. Get the oil.”
Aldor frowned, “Oil?”
Glorfindel did not think he could manage without that. Aldor’s erection was broad and hairy. The musky odour almost made Glorfindel faint. As there would be no point in explaining about the oil to an ignorant, excited human, Glorfindel just prayed to the Valar that he be granted the strength to go through with this. He shifted onto his stomach and parted his legs expectantly. Predictably, Aldor pounced atop him, gripped his waist bruisingly and started thrusting.
The first thrust was pure pain for Glorfindel; he tried to stifle a scream by biting onto his lips. It was as if he was being ripped into two from within. But the next thrust jabbed his prostate and he felt pleasure and ecstasy rising above the pain. By the fourth thrust, he was arching upwards to meet Aldor. They set a punishing rhythm before Aldor came with a scream and collapsed atop Glorfindel.
Glorfindel watched the human drift asleep and muttered, “Impatient, young, fool. Could have made it last longer.”
He pushed the blankets atop the exhaustedly sleeping form and carefully limped to the bathroom, his legs apart as he walked. A narrow trail of blood flowed down his thighs. He shook his head disbelievingly. He had been taken hard, without preparation, causing him to bleed and yet, he did not regret it, what had his world come to?
Erestor had the sense to have a hot bath ordered. Gratefully, Glorfindel descended into the tub and closed his eyes. Humans, he had fallen in love with their many failings, particularly, their impatience.
Erestor closed the door of their chamber behind him exhaustedly. He really wanted to do nothing more than take a week off from his duties. Maybe, he thought wryly, he should just drink a whole bottle of Dorwinion and render himself incapable.
Gil-Galad was already asleep in their large luxurious bed. Erestor did not bother to light a candle as he wearily removed his robes and leggings before slipping on a loose night gown. He crept silently into the bed beside Gil-Galad, pulled up the covers to his chest. A persistent knocking on their door made him curse.
Gil-Galad murmured sleepily, “When did you come?”
“Now,” Erestor sighed as he made to get up, “Couldn’t they have waited until dawn?”
“It is dawn,” Gil-Galad smirked, as he pushed the covers away and got to his feet, “Stay in bed, I’ll answer the door.”
It was Elrond, dressed in his riding clothes.
He said cheerily, “Good morning, Gil. We are about to set out, thought I would come here and wish you farewell as none of you have thought it necessary to see me off!”
Gil-Galad threw on a set of robes and hugged his cousin saying, “We would never have thought so. I overslept and Erestor reached bed only now. Come, I will bid you farewell.”
Elrond nodded as the King swept past him.
Erestor tiredly got to his feet and said, “I will come too, but do not blame me if I fall asleep on my feet.”
Elrond offered him his arm and they walked to the courtyard together. The Green wood delegation was already mounted. Gil-Galad and Galadriel were already wishing Oropher farewell. Celeborn was talking animatedly to Thranduil, who wore a smirk on his face.
Erestor muttered, “The Prince has bewitched her, look to your left”. Elrond obeyed, A familiar hooded figure stood by the group.
Elrond said concernedly, “If Amdir catches her, the prince shall be in trouble.”
Erestor yawned, “Guess so, but Thranduil has never known fear. You take care, and keep away from trouble.”
Elrond hugged the slender form tightly whispering, “You too.”
Thranduil came over to take his leave of Erestor. Elrond stood back as the Prince hugged Erestor and kissed his cheeks. Oropher mounted his mare and asked the rest to hurry. He was keen to reach the road by nightfall.
Gil-Galad ascended the steps of his palace, but Erestor waited until the party was no longer discernible.
Elrond turned back once, and saw a lone figure standing still, a single hand raised in a token of farewell.
Aldor woke up and looked about the strange room disoriented, then the memories of the last night struck him like thunder. He sat up in breath, heavily breathing. He could not believe that he had done that.
“Up already, my friend?” Glorfindel’s voice asked him from the direction of the bathroom.
Aldor hastily got to his feet. There were blood stains on the floor, and on the bed covers. He gasped in silent shock before sinking to his knees.
Glorfindel entered the room, clad in a loose robe and asked him, “What is it, Aldor? Are you well?”
Aldor said in a small voice, “I hurt you. I made you bleed.”
Glorfindel frowned. Was this some kind of false regret that some dominating lovers had, come morning? Then again, Aldor did not seem the type. Which meant…
Glorfindel helped the limp form of the human into a chair and asked him quietly, “Was this the first time you made love to a male?”
Aldor turned a shade of adorable crimson before nodding his head once, “I am sorry, I thought it would be the same, I,” he looked up with anguished, tear-filled eyes, “I am really sorry!”
Glorfindel shook his head, “No, if anything it was my fault for presuming things. I thought you would know of the differences, never mind. I am an elf, and will be all right soon. Now, dress up, let us not be late for breakfast. As it is, I did not see off Elrond,” he turned to walk to his wardrobe, trying to suppress a wince as pain shot through his legs.
Aldor cringed at the Balrog Slayer’s discomfort and said plaintively, “Why don’t you stay there? I shall get whatever you want, if you tell me.”
Glorfindel nodded, he did not want to worry Aldor and moreover he was aching all over.
“I am sorry,” Aldor mumbled again.
“Now,” Glorfindel said firmly, “No more of that, I just have to rest awhile.”
They left for the dining hall. Gil-Galad was talking to Galadriel and luckily did not notice Glorfindel’s discomfort. But Erestor did and smirking, he directed an aide to bring in a soft padded chair. Glorfindel shot him a sharp look, but said nothing.
“Elrond was sad you could not see him off,” Erestor remarked, “But he understands.”
Aldor looked up at the dark haired Chief Counsellor panickedly. But the latter continued buttering his slice of bread lazily.
Glorfindel asked Erestor, “You look ill, should you not take a day off?”
Gil-Galad stopped his conversation with Galadriel and agreed, “That he should! Erestor, I officially decree a week off for you!”
Erestor glowered, “I will be bored to damnation!”
Glorfindel said unhelpfully, “Indeed, and rightly is that deserved!”
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.