I Third Age. Early Spring. The Gray Havens. Imladris.
Bright light streamed through the partially open curtains, causing Gildor to blink. He stared for a while at the ceiling, mentally tracing the unfamiliar fresco. The warm body next to him stirred and the blankets shifted as an arm snaked around his chest. Soft lips brushed his shoulder.
Gildor turned his head and met Galdor's sleepy gaze. "Good morning."
"Did you sleep well?"
"I did. How about you?" Gildor slipped his arm beneath Galdor's body and pulled him closer so that their bodies met from shoulder to ankle. His fingers traced small designs on Galdor's back.
Galdor tossed his leg over his lover's waist and rubbed himself seductively along Gildor's hip. "Wonderful." He turned his face up for a kiss.
Cupping his chin with one hand and pulling him close with the other, Gildor held Galdor still and plundered the willing mouth with his own. His tongue delved deeply, tasting Galdor's sweetness and encouraging his lover to do the same. Their tongues met and danced. Gildor pulled back and took Galdor's swollen bottom lip between his teeth and gently nipped and sucked until Galdor squirmed. He could feel Galdor's semi-erect cock pressing in to his hip and he moved his lips lower, seeking the tender throat. He marked his territory again, scoring the already lightly bruised flesh with more love bites. Pushing Galdor back, he placed his knee between his lover's strong thighs while he kissed a path over exposed collarbones.
Galdor's hands slipped beneath the blankets and roamed over Gildor's back, blunt nails digging into the skin. Palms grazed down his back to his buttocks and strong fingers dug into his ass. Gildor growled his pleasure and clamped his teeth on a flat brown nipple. Galdor arched his back and clenched and unclenched his fingers, kneading the taut muscles of Gildor's ass. Gildor moved his head slightly and took the other nipple into the wet heat of his mouth. Gildor's thumb and forefinger roughly pinched and twisted the nipple already puckered from his ministrations. He pushed himself down, kissing a light trail over Galdor's chest and abdomen and placed his body between his lover's thighs. Using his hands, he spread Galdor's thighs wide, and ignoring the twitching cock inches from his face, nuzzled the juncture where leg met groin. He felt Galdor's hands in his hair, tugging and pulling, the body beneath his trembled as he sucked and bit the sensitive spot. Galdor's hips would have cleared the mattress had not Gildor used his forearms to hold him down. Raising his head, he blew lightly on his lover's cock before lavishing equal attention on the right side of Gildor's groin. Galdor squirmed and hissed.
"Patience," Gildor whispered.
Galdor lifted the covers and peered down the length of his body. "I wonder how quickly you would cry patience were the situation reversed."
Gildor chuckled and ran the tip of his tongue up and down the inside of Galdor's thigh before biting it hard enough to leave teeth marks. "I would beg for more."
He ran the tip of his tongue the length of Galdor's cock, pausing long enough to dip in the small slit before plunging recklessly into Galdor's navel. Galdor hissed and his stomach rippled as he sucked a breath deep into his lungs. Still Gildor did not relent and he shoved his tongue deeper as Galdor's stomach contracted.
The tongue pressing into his navel probed and wriggled and sent tingling waves of pleasure zinging up his spine. His cock twitched against his belly in counterpoint. "You are wicked," panted Galdor.
Gildor withdrew his tongue and raised his head, tenting the blankets. "Wicked? Me?"
Galdor shoved the covers away and held Gildor's head in his hands. "You. Wicked."
Gildor sat up on his haunches and studied Galdor for a moment. After careful consideration, he hauled his lover up and back so that he was propped against the headboard. Then Gildor straddled Galdor and nudged his aching cock against his lover's lips. Galdor willingly opened his mouth wide and took as much of Gildor as he could. His hands grasped Gildor's hips, controlling his speed and depth as he encouraged the other to plunge in and out of his mouth. Holding tightly to the headboard with one hand, Gildor cupped Galdor's head with the other and rocked his hips slowly in and out of the warm mouth. The wet tongue swirled around him, licking and sucking, teasing him until he could barely breath. Galdor's throat convulses, as though he were trying to swallow Gildor whole. When he knew he could take no more of the cunning torture, he tightened his grip on Galdor's hair and pulled himself free. He hunkered down and placed a light kiss on Galdor's forehead.
"Cry patience now, will you?" Laughed Galdor. "I knew you would not."
"Shall I beg?" Gildor slithered down his lover's body again and took his rigid cock between his lips and sucked the plum colored head, flicking his tongue over the slit until Galdor growled.
"If you do not stop I shall cry for release."
In response, Gildor slid his thumb along the crack of Galdor's ass and teased the tight, puckered ring while he kissed and nuzzled on the twitching cock. "You were the one who taught me these wicked things. Shall I stop?"
Galdor held his knees against his chest. "I had no way of knowing you would be such an apt pupil, nor do I recommend that you cease for, if you do, I shall take matters into my own hands."
Gildor pushed his tongue to Gildor's opening. Last night he would never have dreamed or imagined such a thing, yet this morning here he was, between Galdor's thighs. Galdor had done it to him first and he'd nearly leapt from the bed when the wriggling tongue invaded his inner recesses, but he'd held still and forced his body to relax. Soon he'd discovered that he liked the sensation and desired to perform the same ritual on his lover. He'd been hesitant, of course, until the other elf begun moaning and squirming incoherently. Then he explored in earnest until neither of them could think clearly. He pushed his tongue as far in as he could and then slowly dragged it from clenching hole. He repeated his movements, keeping them lazy and slow, prolonging the pleasure for as long as he could.
Time lost all meaning for Galdor as the hot tongue slipped in and out of his body. The erotic sensation went on and on and his body thrummed its pleasure. Gildor's warm breath fanned his cheeks and painfully heavy sac and goose bumps rose on his flesh. He felt Gildor's thumb circle his hole before sliding in to replace the wet heat of his tongue. Unlike Gildor's tongue, the thumb did not flex or roll, but rather remained rigid and rotated slowly, twisting this way and that inside him. At first the barrier to his body protested, then with his thumb still buried inside Galdor, Gildor touched his tongue to the opening, teasing the muscles until they eased and accepted the more forceful invasion.
"I think," moaned Galdor.
Gildor began shoving his thumb in and out of Galdor's body. "We should have none of that." He took Gildor's sac into his mouth and sucked.
Galdor's head thrashed from side to side on the pillow for long moments. "None of that?"
Gildor laughed and the vibrations traveled the length of Galdor's cock and clear fluid dripped on to his sweaty stomach. "Thinking."
Galdor could hear Gildor speaking but he could make no sense of the words. "Please," he whimpered.
Moving his head lower, he bit Galdor's ass. His lover yelped. "I was seeing if you were paying attention."
"I can do nothing else."
Gildor scooted off the end of the bed and pulled his lover down as well. When he had Galdor's legs hanging over the edge of the bed, he helped him to flip over on his stomach. He kissed Galdor's back. "Open for me."
Galdor spread his legs as wide as he could and reached his hands back to pull open his own cheeks, exposing himself for Gildor. He groaned as the head of his lover's cock prodded his entrance. He wriggled his hips and Gildor slammed his hands down over the twin globes, pinning the rotating hips. Galdor keened into the mattress as he was slowly breached. He felt his muscles reluctantly giving way to the invasion, felt the burning, tearing and fullness of Gildor's cock inside him. Gildor brushed his sensitive prostate and Galdor jerked and cried loudly as his hands moved to grab handfuls of sheet.
Gildor reached up and retrieved his lover's hands and repositioned them on the pale cheeks. "Hold yourself open for me," he whispered against Galdor's ear. Reaching down between their bodies, Gildor gripped Galdor's thighs and pushed them wide as he could. He shifted, pushing as much of himself as he could in to the willing body beneath his. He stared down in fascination, watching Galdor's body open and stretch to accommodate him. Experimentally he withdrew, seeing his length slip from Galdor all the way to the head. The ring remained distended and stretched for a moment and then slowly began to close. When the muscles completely relaxed, he pushed in again. The sight of his cock pressing into Galdor made him tremble. He buried himself deeply and remained still for a moment, enjoying the way Galdor's muscles rippled and contracted around him. "So tight," he groaned aloud. "So hot."
"More."
The single word sent Gildor over the edge. He braced his knees against the edge of the bed and placed his hands over Galdor's, forcing the twin mounds wider. Using the leverage of the bed, he began pumping in and out, setting up a steady but brutal pace.
Galdor's hands clenched, leaving red prints against his pale flesh. "Yes. Yes. Yes."
Breathing raggedly, Gildor increased his speed, striking forcefully against Galdor's prostate. Every time he hit his mark, Galdor shouted his pleasure. The bed rocked precariously and the leather springs creaked with the force of their movements. He freed Galdor's trapped hands and the elf immediately fisted them in the sheets as wave after wave of pleasure washed over him. Every thread of the silken sheets abraded his sensitive cock as the force of Gildor's thrusts scooted him over the bed.
"Harder," he begged Gildor.
Gildor braced his arms on either side of Galdor's head and began riding the elf harder. The tension on his cock increased unbearably as Galdor instinctively tightened around him. "Now, my love, now." He glanced down at the dark hair fanning across narrow shoulders and silken sheets. For a brief moment his sanity returned and his hips hitched, breaking his rhythm. He clamped his teeth closed, lest his traitorous tongue spill the name Elrond from lips. He felt Galdor's muscles clench around him and the hips beneath his arched back and shuddered against him. He pushed back, allowing the heat and the tightness to sweep him away as he exploded.
Galdor cried out as semen spilled from his length and the cock inside him began to wildly twitch. His muscles clamped hard around the intrusion and within seconds of finding his own release, he felt Gildor's essence spilling inside him. He moaned softly as Gildor shuddered and pressed in to him. Gildor's body rested atop his. They lay together, quiet except for their ragged breathing. Gildor's cock began to soften and Galdor clenched his muscles, reluctant to abandon the sense of fullness. Gildor moaned against his shoulder and bit him playfully.
"Stop that," he said.
Galdor twisted his head a little. "Why? Do you not like it?"
Gildor did not reply as his cock slipped from Galdor's body. Instead, he climbed off the bed and knelt between Galdor's legs. With infinite care, he nuzzled his face between Galdor's cheeks and slathered the swollen hole with his wet tongue. He tasted Galdor and himself, mixed in equal parts. Galdor squeaked and shifted on the sticky sheets. After a few moments, Gildor stopped and planted a kiss on the puckered opening.
"There is something to think about," he said playfully.
Galdor sighed melodramatically. "And how long will you make me think about it?"
Gildor sat on the edge of the bed. "How long do you think it will take us to bathe and find food? I am famished."
Galdor instantly scrambled from the bed and began rummaging through his wardrobe. He pulled out two robes and tossed one of them at his lover. Like most of Galdor's clothes, the robe was black and high collared. He tossed his own robe over his shoulders and retrieved soaps and a vial of bath oil. He paused and watched as Gildor casually pulled on the robe. "Why do you dawdle?"
Gildor threw back his head and laughed.
*~*
Walking jauntily, Erestor balanced the parchment bearing a tiny piece of divinity on his palm as he made his way to the healing house. He'd begged Elrond to allow him to take some of the sticky sweet confection to Lindir, and the Noldor had agreed that a small bit would not have lasting ill affects. He stepped into the room and stopped cold. Lindir sat with his head resting on his upraised knees. The long blond hair spilled over his arms and pooled over his legs. Even from where he stood, Erestor could see Lindir's shoulders shake. Cautiously, he moved forward. At the bedside, he cleared his throat.
Lindir heard the noise and twisted his face so that he peered through the curtaining hair. He recognized Erestor's slim form and dark robes. He straightened slowly.
Erestor's heart dropped to his knees as he saw the tear stained face and red-rimmed eyes. Word had reached him that Lindir had been out in the gardens, and he could tell the exercise had done more than refresh his spirit. He stared at the silly gift in his hands and wished he'd never brought it. With a disgusted sound, he dropped the parchment bearing the divinity on the table beside the bed.
Lindir watched silently, his mind awhirl with thoughts and questions. At last he managed to voice the one question that had gone round and round in his mind all afternoon. "Why does he not come?"
Erestor did not have to ask who 'he' was. "He is not here, Lindir. We do not know where he is."
"He left me. I was ill and he left."
Sighing, Erestor hunched down next to the bed so that he could meet Lindir's blue eyes. "He did not leave as easily as that. He had to go, though I am sure it hurt him. Lindir." Erestor searched his mind for words. "Your injury was so great that we did not think you would recover. You remained unconscious so long that your body began to fade and we thought you were dying. This hurt Gildor more than you might realize. Lord Elrond decided that it was time to end your misery and he and Gildor quarreled some over it. Anyway, before anything was done, a messenger arrived from Lindon for him bearing the news that his father was ill. Gildor was torn between being here with you or going to his father. But I suppose he assumed that the poison planned by Lord Elrond would be administered with or without him and, too, maybe he did not wish to see you die by Lord Elrond's hand. You opened your eyes at last, though you remained unresponsive. The decision was delayed and shortly thereafter, you awakened. We were so relieved. I sent word to Lindon. Melpomaen—do you remember him? He went with another for the roads are a treacherous place. They were set upon by orcs and only Melpomaen escaped. He eventually made his way to Lindon but could find no trace of Gildor. His father was dead and his mother had made her way to the Gray Havens. Of Gildor there was no trace. " He could not believe he was defending Gildor, but there was no reason why he shouldn't, only that he was giving Lindir hope that his love would come back to Imladris and taking away his own chances of gaining Lindir's heart.
"My heart does not ache any less," said Lindir quietly as he plucked at the quilt on his bed.
"I would not imagine so," Erestor said uneasily. He longed to take Lindir in his arms and hold him close. He wanted to run his fingers through the molten silver hair and kiss the soft lips until there were no more tears in the blue eyes. He berated himself for his thoughts. Lindir did not need an overly affectionate leech clinging to him now. He needed a compassionate and responsible friend. "I am sorry, Lindir. Maybe we should have told you, but we wanted you to heal naturally and we worried that too many shocks would undermine your healing. Is there anything I can do?"
Lindir shook his head. "No, I don't think so. I'm rather tired and would like to sleep." He wormed the quilt from beneath his body and stretched out on the cot.
"Would you like for me to stay with you until you fall asleep?"
"I would rather be alone," replied the other. "Thank you."
"Of course. Good night, then," Erestor kept his pace sedate and steady as he walked from the room. Not until he reached the gardens did he allow the first tear to slip from his eyes.
"Do you still call what you feel hope?" Glorfindel asked as he sat draped over a wrought iron bench.
Erestor did not try to conceal his tears; there was no need as the warrior had already seen his anguish. "I suppose now you will take the opportunity to sing a rousing chorus of 'I told you so'."
Glorfindel's fingers traced a white moonflower. "No, Erestor." He rose from his seat. "I'll leave you with your ..thoughts."
~*~
Gildor lay on the bed with Galdor draped over him. They were spent and exhausted from making love all day. Idly, he played with a strand of Galdor's dark hair. He wondered how far he would allow this newfound relationship to continue. Did he have any right to deceive Galdor? He could give the elf his body, but never his heart. Last night, as they sat laughing and talking on the bench outside the hall, he thought he might could. Now, he did not think so. He liked Galdor. He admired Galdor. He enjoyed Galdor's body and what Galdor did to him. But he did not love him. To stay would be unfair, he knew. Yet to leave would mean that he remained alone. Mostly, he did not want to be alone.
Galdor stirred and lifted his head. "Do you think you could love me?"
Gildor blinked in astonishment. Had the other read his mind?
"You called me 'my love'," Galdor continued. "I heard you."
Gildor inhaled and exhaled slowly, willing his heart to calmness. What could he say? How did he tell Galdor the truth without hurting him? He had no desire to lose Galdor's friendship. Nor did he wish to hurt him.
"There is another who holds your heart." Galdor scrambled up and sat cross-legged on the bed and pulled the covers into his lap, as if suddenly ashamed of his nudity.
Propping himself up on one hand, Gildor formulated his reply with as much care as possible. "We did not discuss the possibility of love either last night or this morn, Galdor. We barely know one another."
"I did not ask if you loved me. I asked if you could. As in someday." Galdor frowned down at his hands. "If your heart belongs somewhere else, then when you said 'my love' you meant them, not me."
Where had all this come from, wondered Gildor. "I could not think while I was making love with you," he stretched the truth and prayed he did not pull it so thin it became transparent.
"You could at least be honest with me."
Gildor chuckled then, as he contemplated the irony of his situation. For the second time in his life, in a very short span of time, he had come across someone who actually wanted, needed, his love. He did not love them, but rather gave his heart to one who did not need or want it. He found the whole idea ironic and, in some ways, pathetic. Would it not be wiser to give up his infatuation? No, replied his heart, what he felt for Elrond was no infatuation.
"Why do you laugh at me?"
"I am not laughing at you. I am laughing at myself. There is a great cosmic irony at work here and I find it amusing that I am the butt of the joke. Yes, I love another, but I love foolishly, for he does not love me. My closest friend asked me for my love, but I could not give him the love he desired. Now he is dead. And here you are, also asking if there is some way I could share my heart with you. To hold in your secret heart a love for one who does not love you is unwise. Or so my mind says. My heart says it belongs to someone and, regardless of the consequences, will always love that one. I should be alone for the rest of my life, I think, if I listen to my heart. But what else can I do? If I lie to you and say, yes, someday I shall come to love you will those words lessen the pain in your heart? Perhaps for a time. How long will it take you to discover that I have lied? How long will it take you to learn to hate me for hurting you?"
"You are right, of course. And I should say I have no right to ask you to love me, for we made no promises to each other. I would not like to think I gave my body so foolishly as you say you have given your heart."
"You did not give your body foolishly, Galdor. Nor did I take anything from you. I never meant you harm, either in action or thought. Rather, we have laughed and loved, after a fashion, and we should treasure our time together."
"I want more than sexual gratification. I want love, undying, unyielding, and all consuming. Perhaps I am foolish for this desire and long for what I cannot have. But it is what I want."
"Your desire is not foolish; only impossible to have with me. I can go, if you like. Would that be easier?"
"If I say no, then I become a bigger fool. If I say yes, then I get to spend the night alone." Galdor at last raised his eyes to Gildor.
"Let us find a compromise. We will pretend that you and I did not converse on the nature of our hearts and that I did not confess to love another. I will hold you in my arms for as long as you need me to. If in the morning you tell me to go, then I will leave you. If you should want me to stay, I will." He reached out and stroked Galdor's arm.
"Why do you continue to hope when there is no hope?"
"Faith is all I have left. I spent a year on the accursed plains before Sauron's fortress. I watched friends die from poisonous fumes and orc arrows. I was cold and miserable. I was frightened. My friend received a fatal blow on the head trying to save my life. Kings and their heirs perished on the battlefield. Sons and lovers and fathers never returned home from the Dagorlad Plains. So much pain and destruction surrounded us there that it is a small wonder that we all did not despair. I hold to the faith that a greater good will come from the pain and suffering. Otherwise, I shall lose my will to remain and sail. I should return to the service of my lord, but I fear to look him in the eye and so I run. I have no honor left, I think. So I must maintain the one thing left. Faith. But my faith must encompass more than a belief in a greater good, for I also must believe that one day I shall have what my heart desires most."
Galdor thought about Gildor's words for a long time before speaking again. "You claim you have no honor left, but I think otherwise. A dishonorable person would have lied to me and said that they loved me already. Yet, you chose to bare you heart and risk losing even my friendship to tell me the truth. There is honor in that. You are certainly no coward."
"I may indulge in self-deception, but I would never lie to a friend."
Galdor stretched out beside Gildor and placed his head on the waiting shoulder. He felt Gildor's arms encircle him. "You are right. Let us pretend that we never spoke of these things. We will laugh and love, as you say, after a fashion and be thankful that we are not alone, for however long it lasts."
~*~
Elrond walked quietly around his newly planted gardens. His first instinct was always to search out Gil-Galad and share with him the day's accomplishments and disappointments. Elrond was invariably startled when he remembered that his lover was dead. He felt so alone and his loneliness threatened at times to overwhelm him. Elrond watched Erestor entered the healing house and he smiled. A few moments later, however, when the advisor came out, Elrond's heart ached. He knew that many of Lindir's memories had returned, for his assistant, Faelon, had told him so that afternoon. Elrond disliked meddling in the affairs of others, at least when it came to matters of the heart, but he ignored his normal inclinations. With resolute steps, he turned his direction to the healing house.
He pushed open the door and saw a lump under
Lindir's blankets and heard quiet sobs. His mouth turned down at the corners.
So much sorrow was not good for a healing body. Elrond quirked his dark brow
in mocking self-admonishment. Who was he to offer advice? He spent his time
waiting for a dead lover to come home. Silently he left the house and returned
to his own sterile quarters where he spent the long night staring at the ceiling.
If you liked the story, please let Hawk know: Hawk's email