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Without Condition
Author: Finarfiniel
Beta: none
Email: [email protected]
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Elrond/Celebrimbor
Warnings: none
Request: seduction, first time
Written For: Phytha
They were not easy men to love. Gil-galad's mind was strong, and he had a stubborn will to match. With every passing day, his focus narrowed and he bent his resolve ever further toward his solitary goal. Celebrimbor carried the burden of a legendary F�anorian temper. Its weight was almost visible on his shoulders, like a leaden mantle. Their affair was furious, forged in angry lust rather than affection, and as damaging as it was fulfilling. A fiery war played out on a field of glass. A destiny to strive endlessly, battle after battle, until the foundation shattered and crashed down around them. How they could ever manage to be together was a nearly as great a mystery as how they came together in the first place. But then, voices allowed, stranger things had happened in new Lindon in the years following the war. The scandal took root in that time, and flourished.
But after those years, when the Second Age turned weary as it surpassed the First in length, the manageable storm flew out of control. Or, more accurately, it extinguished itself. Where before arguments had risen in passion and been resolved the same way, now they bristled with spite. While words traded earlier had only meant to cut but never wound, cruel jibes now struck deep and with a stinging accuracy. And in the middle of all the fury, after seven hundred hard years, Celebrimbor found he no longer cared. He could try to hurt his lover as best he could, but it brought him no satisfaction. And Gil-galad�s words, for all their dark intentions, did not pain him.
He sat at the side of his lover's bed and tried to think of what he could say. Within arm's reach, the High King slept on. Rodnor Finellach Gil-galad. Last of a great line, great by his own right. A golden-fair star of the East. He lay defenceless in sleep, lips parted for the sake of shallow breath, like a child. The hardship of years had lifted from his face. Strange how fury could so easily lead to sleep.
"I must leave you," Celebrimbor began quietly, though the words sounded forced and insincere. "We started as merely mistrustful. Now I believe we truly hate each other. Or you hate me. I feel nothing for you." The speech rang hollowly in his ears, like lines in a frivolous play. He only spoke them for the sake of speaking. A trick to break the tension in the morning's dim light.
He pulled on his breeches, boots and tunic, and allowed himself one last glance at the bed. Seven hundred years he had spent waging war in that very space, and now it was as meaningless to him as a stone on the beach. The man who lay there no longer stirred need or provoked desire. The flame had gone.
As the King sighed in his sleep, Celebrimbor turned away and disappeared through the bedroom door. No further thought troubled his mind.
*
Of all the courtiers in Lindon, it was Elrond who was most intrigued by Celebrimbor's departure. The air was thick with his questions.
"Where will you go? And why now?"
"East," Celebrimbor answered simply. "To the Hithaeglir."
"But why so far?"
"I have been hearing rumours of strong deposits in the mines out there. Rumours that, even if only half true, are enough to draw a man's thought to the gleam of riches. I would like to see for myself."
Elrond remained unconvinced. "And what if your rumours prove false?"
"They will not," said Celebrimbor. "I have heard the same stories from too many travellers, Elrond. Glittering caves shot with veins of the purest metals. Gold, silver, gemstones... mithril. Dwarves have been there for centuries, and they are no fools to stay where the wealth is gone."
"I still think you are being foolish to go so soon..."
"You think?" Celebrimbor cut him short, flashing an enigmatic smile. "Of everyone here, Elrond, I would have thought you would be one of the first to wish me a quick departure."
Elrond's cheeks reddened. "What do you mean?"
Celebrimbor's smile only grew. "Come for a walk with me," he said. Then he turned down the stone steps that led to the seashore paths, beckoning Elrond follow with a smooth gesture of his hand. Obediently and curiously, Elrond went after him.
The stone steps ended abruptly just out of sight of the castle, and turned into a well-used, dirt walking path that continued steeply down the forested incline of seaside hills. Here, the path curved around trunks and roots, settling between the trees as if it had been there naturally since the world's creation. As they walked, Celebrimbor said nothing, but whistled to himself with the air of a cocky youth and swung his arms extravagantly. Elrond continued to follow in a more subdued step.
When the ground flattened as it came closer to sea level, the path broke onto a wide tree-lined and grassy avenue. This place was a popular destination for other leisurely walkers, and the air buzzed with the sound of their mingled conversations. Groups of ladies walked small dogs, parents chased racing children, families sat to eat on the sward, and lords paced over discussions of art and philosophy. Celebrimbor slowed his pace. "Lovely day, is it not?"
"Yes..." Elrond answered uncertainly.
"We should go further on ahead. I find it too crowded just here." He continued forward, quickening his step again. All around as he passed, onlookers stared with unabashed interest. It had taken only hours for the news that the kingdom's favourite scandal had ended to travel to every gossip-minded Elf in the area. Everyone knew that Celebrimbor had chosen to leave. To see him now walking with Elrond added further speculation to the cloud of curiosity.
"Where are we going?" asked Elrond.
"Nowhere in particular. Just walking."
Quickly, he turned off the main avenue and onto a new path leading down to the shore. This one wound precariously through a dense overgrowth of shorter trees and bushes, some hanging so close that both Celebrimbor and Elrond had to duck under leafy branches cutting across the walkway.
"I would say this way has fallen out of use," said Elrond as twigs caught his hair. "Are you certain it goes anywhere at all?"
"Yes," came Celebrimbor's answer. He did not elaborate, and Elrond was left to follow him on trust alone.
After some minutes of difficult faring, the overgrown way opened into a second avenue. This one, only half as wide as the first, was separated from the rocky shore by a thin strip of trees. A swampy creek ran down its middle. Water surged in time with the tree-muffled crash of nearby waves. At the creek's edge, Celebrimbor stopped and abruptly turned back to look at Elrond.
"You are free to be with him now," he said, unexpectedly.
A look of shock struck Elrond's face. "I am sure I do not know what you are talking about," he said, though the blush quickly creeping over his cheeks told otherwise.
"Yes, you do," said Celebrimbor. "The King. Gil-galad. I leave you free to pursue him however you wish. Do not let any loyalty of friendship to me stop you. In fact, you have my blessing; I would rather see him happy with you than miserable alone. You need not worry I will hold a jealous grudge. I will not."
For a moment, Elrond could only continue to stare in uncertain silence. "You... make an awful number of suppositions," he finally managed to say.
Celebrimbor smiled faintly. "Educated guesses, my friend. I have seen you when you are near him."
"But I..."
"I know you thought you were being so careful. Staring after him, quickly averting your eyes whenever he looked back at you. Struggling to maintain conversations that were going nowhere just to have an excuse to speak with him a little longer. Standing near him long after your reason to be there had passed. Never thinking that somebody else in the room would be watching you."
Elrond's blush deepened fiercely. "I... do not... you... Why were you watching me, anyhow?"
Celebrimbor smiled another enigmatic smile. Without answering, he turned and slowly began to walk along the muddy bank of the creek.
"Celebrimbor?!"
"Yes, Elrond?"
Elrond followed closely behind, shoes sliding and squishing in the mud. "Why were you watching me?"
"Must I have an answer for everything?" He stepped up onto a steep slope where the creek dipped, balancing carefully on a tuft of grass.
"Yes! You cannot say something like that and then refuse to answer."
"Ah," said Celebrimbor. "I am sorry, then, to disappoint you, but..."
He was unable to finish his thought. Elrond shouted suddenly behind him, and Celebrimbor turned only in time to see his friend land in the creek, seat first, with a splash. He had left both shoes behind in the mud. Celebrimbor found the sight irresistible; he howled with laughter, nearly losing his own balance as Elrond struggled to stand in the murky water.
"You are horrible," Elrond snarled. He pulled his shoes out of the muddy bank and bent to wash them in the creek.
"Forgive me," choked Celebrimbor. He managed to tame his laugh to a subdued snicker while Elrond flailed about trying to extract himself from the creek without getting his feet stuck in the weedy murk and falling again. "Maybe this will teach you to pay attention to where walk rather than pester me?"
Elrond shot him a glare of loathing as he stepped out of the water with a great slopping sound. Once free, he stood safely away on the grass to ring out his robes. "I am soaked. And filthy. Thank you."
The clipped coldness in his voice was warning enough for Celebrimbor. His last chuckle became a cough, and he cleared his throat. "Sorry. I am sorry, Elrond. I did not think you would... well... Come, I'll take you back to the castle."
"Please do," Elrond said. His voice was no warmer.
"You should strip down to your leggings, though," said Celebrimbor, leading their way back to the overgrown path.
Elrond froze where he stood. "...What?"
"Undress," Celebrimbor repeated. "Walking in all those layers of wet clothes is hardly comfortable, is it?"
"No!"
"No... what?"
"No, I am not going to undress!" Elrond's eyes narrowed, and he clutched the collar of his robes tighter around his neck as if to emphasise the point. "Not here!"
Celebrimbor glanced about them. "There is nobody here to see you. I know other paths back to the castle: paths that are rarely used."
"You are here to see me," said Elrond. He folded his arms across his chest and stepped backward warily.
"Ah," said Celebrimbor. "I had forgotten how frightening I am. Very well, as you wish... wear your wet, dirty clothes. They will only get dirtier..."
Those words fell true. As they made their way back up the hill to the castle, dirt from the paths, as well as dry leaves and grass, clung to the sodden bottom of Elrond's robes. People stared once again as they passed through the wide avenue. And Celebrimbor, with a gesture to the creek path, said to them, "I would advise against going that way." Looking at Elrond, they nodded in agreement.
*
Elrond's bedroom, thankfully, had a large fireplace in which Celebrimbor built a fire while Elrond dripped on the hearth mat. "There," he said, "that should do you to dry."
"Thank you," Elrond said with a nod, neither moving to sit by the fire nor beginning to undress.
Celebrimbor sighed. "I know, you do not want anyone to see you... I will wait outside the door while you change your clothes."
Elrond nodded again, a stiff jerk of the head. Averting his eyes, Celebrimbor stepped out into the hallway and shut the door behind him. He waited a few counts, until he was sure the time was right, then flung the door open again and came back into the room.
"Sorry, Elrond, but I forgot to mention..."
"Morgoth's crown, Celebrimbor!" Elrond swore. He tripped over his own feet in his haste to snatch a blanket off the bed and cover himself. "I am dressing!"
Celebrimbor smirked. "Forgive me, my friend. But you need not worry; you are still wearing your leggings, and I saw nothing that might embarrass you."
"You have seen more than anyone else ever has..." Elrond muttered.
"Oh? " Celebrimbor asked, eyebrow rising. "Nobody has ever seen you in only your leggings and... what is that, a woollen blanket?"
"Not since I have been old enough to know that clothes are not optional in polite society," Elrond answered stiffly.
"What a shame."
"Hardly," said Elrond. "I am very sure nobody wants to see me so underdressed."
Celebrimbor inched closer. "Nobody?"
With a huff, Elrond sat down on the edge of his bed. "Celebrimbor..." he started, "I know myself. And I know that I am better off clothed. There are reasons why... nobody needs to see me."
"What reasons?"
For a second, Elrond held his breath, pausing. "Mannish blood," he finally spat, twisting his face as if the idea shamed him.
"What is so wrong with that?" Celebrimbor asked.
"I..." Elrond sighed. Slowly, he lowered the blanket that he had clutched tightly around his shoulders. "You see?" he said, directing a sharp gaze to his chest where a sparse patch of short, curling hair grew. "Nobody needs to see that."
Celebrimbor tilted his head in observation. "It is not so bad, Elrond."
"Not so bad?! Of course you can say that! You are not the one with hair on... unnatural places."
"You worry too much," said Celebrimbor as he reached out to graze the hair on Elrond's chest with his fingertips. "It probably serves some purpose."
"What kind of purpose could it possibly serve?" Elrond asked, shying away from the touch.
Celebrimbor shrugged. "Traction?"
The absurdity of that answer caught Elrond off guard. The corners of his mouth twitched into a grin, and he began to laugh; he could not help it. "This is why I am so fond of you," he said; "you can say the strangest things at the strangest times, and still have it sound perfectly logical."
"That is why I am so fond of you," Celebrimbor returned. He brushed his hand over Elrond's hair, lightly catching the edge of an ear. "You listen to what I have to say, no matter how strange."
For a moment, Elrond held still, scarcely breathing.
"Elrond... would you believe me if I said, no matter what you might think of yourself... you are not ugly or undesirable. Not in the least."
Speechless, Elrond could only gape. "I... uhhhhh..."
Within a second, Celebrimbor shot forward to kiss Elrond on his open, unexpecting mouth. That Elrond did not pull away, but tried clumsily to move his lips in return, urged him on. He moved forward with a surge of desire that pulsed from his core. Hands grasping, arms tightening, body pressing to the one thing he needed. Until, after a minute, he forced himself to break away. Though only far enough that he could speak. His hands fell down Elrond's bare back, and Elrond shuddered, eyes closed and skin tuned to graceful caresses.
"You have never been kissed before?" he asked.
"No," whispered Elrond. "I mean... not like... that." Smiling faintly, he opened his eyes. "Only when I was a boy, by ladies who always pinched my cheek."
"I can do better than that," said Celebrimbor. Again he leaned in to kiss Elrond, thought softer this time, and at a slower pace that took time to touch every contour of his lips. A whole and honest kiss. Elrond welcomed it eagerly, with greater confidence. The tip of his tongue played teasingly against Celebrimbor's. Slowly, they lowered themselves to the bed until they lay side by side, breathing roughly, cheeks flushed.
"You are a virgin," said Celebrimbor, less a question than a statement of fact.
Elrond only nodded silently.
"I know I cannot offer you much... anything... of a relationship," Celebrimbor went on. "If I leave tomorrow for the east, I may never return. May never see you again. But, if you are willing... for tonight... an experience without worries or conditions..."
Elrond pressed the tips of two fingers to Celebrimbor's lips to quiet him. "I am."
This time, it was Celebrimbor's turn to look surprised. His eyes widened in appraisal of Elrond's sly smile.
"I have waited eight hundred years for someone to show interest," Elrond explained. "I think that is long enough." He touched his lips to Celebrimbor's, leading the kiss now on his own terms. Below, his hands worked to unfasten the buckles and ties that bound their clothing.
Once undressed, Celebrimbor knelt on the bed at Elrond's side with his thighs apart, leisurely and confidently stroking himself while Elrond watched with a curious stare. "Sit up," he murmured. "Back against the headboard."
It took Elrond, transfixed as he was, a moment to realise what Celebrimbor had said. "What? ...Oh, yes..." He sat as directed, though modestly: knees bent, ankles crossed, and arms folded over a pillow in his lap.
"No pillow," said Celebrimbor. In one extended motion, he pulled the pillow away, eased the clenched knees apart, and bent over to take the head of Elrond's shaft in his mouth.
Elrond could only reply with a gasp as the slick heat closed around him. His hands darted to Celebrimbor's hair, desperate to control him, hold him as he was, or force him to move... His body arched forward with a magnetic jolt of desire. With a painful slowness, Celebrimbor's lips slid down the length of his member to take him in entirely. A low, wild moan grew deep in Elrond's throat.
Just as slowly, Celebrimbor raised his head again, then sat up fully to look at Elrond with a secretive half smile. "No-one has ever done that, I guess?"
"No," Elrond gasped. "Absolutely not. Do it again."
Celebrimbor grinned and leaned over once more, but this time took Elrond's shaft in his hand, stroking at the same leisurely, confident pace he had used on himself. "I could do that all night," he said. "I would be honoured. Unless you would like to go further?"
"Oh..." Elrond laughed nervously in spite of him self, unsure of how he could say what he wanted. Or even of what he truly wanted. Celebrimbor's mouth and hand were good to him, but he knew there was something more. "Yes," he forced himself to say.
Celebrimbor nodded. He came near enough to whisper in Elrond's ear, and near enough that his lips grazed the skin; "Have you any grease or oil here?"
"Oil? Why?"
"I will show you. Have you any?"
Elrond nodded to a shelf on the far side of the room. "Lamp oil in the tall bottle."
Celebrimbor took the lamp oil and returned to the bed, unstopping the bottle as he went and giving it a sniff. "Hm. Should work..."
"I still do not understand..."
"Elrond, what is the opposite of traction?"
"I suppose that would be lubri-- oh."
"Correct," Celebrimbor said with an amused smile. He pooled a small amount in his hand and took up Elrond's shaft, coating it generously. When finished, he lay on the bed, on his front, with his legs slightly apart. "Do you know what to do?"
Elrond nodded. His entire body shivered in nervous anticipation. Moving carefully, he knelt between Celebrimbor's thighs, stroking himself to readiness.
"One finger first," Celebrimbor said softly.
"Oh. Yes. Right..." He picked up the oil bottle and smeared one shaking hand before pressing the tip of a finger to Celebrimbor's entrance. It slid inside more easily than Elrond had imagined. Celebrimbor's body was relaxed and willing. His eyes were closed, and his breath hitched, but the reactions were born in pleasure rather than discomfort. At the positive response, Elrond added a second finger, and probed a bit deeper.
"Good... mm..." Celebrimbor murmured. One hand moved up to his mouth, where he bit the side of his finger to suppress a moan, while the other crept under his body and down. The look of him, so wanton and shamelessly needy, pushed Elrond to the edge. He could wait no longer. Guiding his shaft with one hand and steadying himself to Celebrimbor's hip with the other, he held his breath and thrust forward.
The sensation threatened to overwhelm him. He gave a sharp cry in a harsh, feral voice, so unlike his own, and heard it echoed by Celebrimbor. Savage desire tore through him. He needed to move, fiercely, to work for a goal already promised by the fire building inside him. With his chest to Celebrimbor's back, he pulsed forward. And again. Building a frantic pace. Each thrust brought him closer.
A hand grabbed his wrist and drew his hand beneath them until he felt Celebrimbor's shaft, hot and hard. Blindly he took it, fumbling for the rhythm. One stroke matching one thrust, in time. One thrust following one stroke, in succession. Together, and faster. He was nearly done. Another rough stroke to a hard thrust, and reached his peak. He cried out again as he came to climax, biting down on Celebrimbor's shoulder to muffle the sound. "Cele..." he panted.
He felt the body beneath him tighten, and heat spilled over the hand that still stroked his lover's shaft. With a long, slow groan, Celebrimbor exhaled and then collapsed limply to the bed. Elrond rolled over to lie at his side, still gasping to catch his breath as the last few shocks of pleasure shot through his body. Neither of them said anything; there was nothing they needed to say. A blanket of understood contentment covered the bed.
After several minutes of comfortable silence, when they could breathe calmly again, Celebrimbor finally spoke. "By the way, Elrond... When we were walking, before you fell into the creek, you asked me why I would be looking at you. That would be because I have wanted to do this for a very long time."
Laughing, Elrond lay his head on Celebrimbor's bare chest.
*
As he promised, Celebrimbor left the next morning. Elrond, to his own surprise, felt neither disappointed nor distressed. He did not love Celebrimbor. Their one night had come, as discussed, with no worries and no conditions. He would miss him, but as a friend only, and as a friend he could accept that this future lay in the east. Elrond, meanwhile, belonged in Lindon. With the King.
He knocked on Gil-galad's door, feeling for once a rush of giddy excitement rather than hopelessness. "Enter," called a voice from beyond.
"My King," said Elrond. "If the time is convenient to you, I have a small matter I would like to discuss."
"Of course," Gil-galad replied. "Have a seat."
Clearing his throat, Elrond went on, "Actually, I was thinking we might take a walk? Such a lovely day. Shame to spend it inside, is it not?"
Gil-galad smiled at him. "I agree. I've been in this office long enough. Where should we go?"
"You will see."
Grinning privately beneath a mask of composure, Elrond led the way down to the path to the creek.
The End
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