Request: Elf/Elf, Kink, Sub/Dom, Control, Whips, Pain, Affection, Desire, Humor

Summary: Glorfindel considers his personal goals, and Elladan has a hidden agenda.

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�Do you yield?!�

The unexpected words snapped Glorfindel back to the present like a slap to the face, and he blinked and found himself staring at the business end of a rusty sparring sword. Alarmed, he flicked his widened gaze from the ragged swordspoint to the smug grin of his third-year pupil. Engrod could scarcely contain his excitement at having beaten his master. Glorfindel groaned.

�Yes, I yield. It�s that or have you run me through with a dull blade,� Glorfindel bitterly replied. He hoped his fierce glare would dissuade Engrod from launching into full-scale celebration. Alas, it failed miserably.

Engrod�s sword slipped from his fingers and fell to the dusty ground. �I did it!! Wait until I tell the others!� He let loose a whoop of pure joy and dashed back toward the training facility like an Elfling on a sugar high.

The last Elf to have beaten Glorfindel was Elladan, Lord Elrond�s son, but that had been decades ago and was obviously a fluke. Glorfindel had tripped on a rock, or pulled a hamstring or sprained an ankle� he couldn�t remember which excuse he used, but it worked. Everyone believed it and Elladan did not dare contradict him. He knew better. Glorfindel would have hunted him down like a rabid dog and chewed on his hind end. The last Elf who dared confront him was still sporting tooth marks. However, there was no excuse for today�s humiliating defeat. Well�actually, there was an excuse for the loss to Engrod � a brilliant one � but he�d die before he admitted that to anyone!

Glorfindel stood with his arms crossed defiantly over his chest and watched Engrod dart off. Though he was angry, he had nobody to blame but himself. Why had he foolishly agreed to spar with a student when his mind was elsewhere? He absently adjusted his leggings and tugged at the garter belt hidden underneath them. Try as he might, he could not stop thinking about his current predicament, or the chaos going on in his pants. And to think, it had all begun a few short weeks ago with a simple training exercise in a boring staff meeting.

~*~

Lord Elrond loved staff meetings, especially when they involved training, group strategy or team-building exercises. Glorfindel hated anything that closely resembled a meeting, but he discovered early in his tenure on the Executive Council that it was far easier to attend the meetings than to weasel out of them. Once, Glorfindel skipped a meeting entitled �Understanding Dwarfish Culture and Customs� to participate in a fishing tournament on the banks of the Bruinen. Lord Elrond found him the very next day and proceeded to read and discuss the minutes from the meeting in detail. The meeting itself had taken two hours. Lord Elrond�s review of the minutes had taken all afternoon. Glorfindel had not missed a meeting since.

�I think we need a vision statement,� Elrond decided as he paced to and fro in front of his desk, just as he had been doing for the past half an hour. �A staff vision statement, more precisely. We all have individual agendas, but we should be working together as a team for the better of Imladris.� The small room practically shook as all of his executive council members- all thirty of them � shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Lindir, who shared Glorfindel�s distaste of long meetings, looked positively nauseated. Elrohir picked at his thumbnail. Gildor furiously scribbled what could have been notes, though Glorfindel suspected he actually was sketching the back of Melpomaen�s head. Elladan, who normally was able to at least feign interest, struggled to stifle a yawn. Glorfindel saw him try to hide it behind his hand and gave him a conspiring wink. Elladan grinned in response. In fact, only Erestor seemed to hold any enthusiasm for Elrond�s suggestion.

�I agree, Lord Elrond,� chimed Erestor eagerly from his usual spot right next to Elrond�s desk. �We should each write down our personal goals, put them in a hat and then we can discuss them at length. Surely, we�ll see some trends that we can shape into a unified vision statement.�

Glorfindel shot him an icy look that could have frozen molten lava. Erestor was forever interrupting and had a knack for turning what should be a short meeting into a daylong event. And what in the name of Eru�s crown was a vision statement? Glorfindel made a mental note to tear Erestor�s skinny body limb-from-limb when the meeting finally ended. If that butt kisser wanted to suck up to the boss, he could do it on his own time.

Naturally, Elrond thought Erestor�s idea was splendid, and before Glorfindel could voice an objection, Erestor had shoved a quill and parchment into his hands.

�What am I supposed to do with this?� Glorfindel dabbed the tip of his quill in a nearby inkwell and purposely made a messy blot on his parchment, just to spite Erestor.

Erestor pursed his lips and stared down his nose at Glorfindel. �Let me explain again for those of you who may not quite grasp the concept. Write down your personal goals on the paper and then pass them forward. Once we have collected everyone�s goals, we�ll begin forming a collective vision statement.�

Glorfindel narrowed his eyes at the brown-nosing little shit of an Elf, then looked down at his stained parchment. He had no goals, other than to avoid long meetings and have fun. The first goal seemed unattainable, but the second�hmm� He grinned wickedly and began to write.

My Personal Goals

1. Learn which came first: the chicken or the egg
2. Tie a cherry stem into a knot with my tongue
3. Create a signature cocktail
4. Complete my collection of First Age teaspoons
5. Find a mate whose taste for lust and adventure rivals my own and indulge in both as frequently as possible.

He chewed on the tip of the quill as he scanned his list once more. That should effectively communicate both his personal goals and his irritation at having to pen them in the first place. With a grin of devious satisfaction, he handed his folded list to Erestor and rose from his seat.

�If you�ll excuse me, Lord Elrond, I have a previously scheduled training session out at the sparring ring,� Glorfindel said with a tone he hoped would pass for genuine remorse. There was no training session, of course, but nobody else needed to know that. He�d go hide out in his office down by the stables and read until sunset.

Glorfindel heard the muffled grumbles as he made his way to the door, but he chalked the objections up to sheer jealousy. If the rest of the council could have found a way out of the meeting, they would have done exactly the same thing.

Lord Elrond visibly deflated. �Yes, yes of course,� he said with obvious disappointment. �Work must take precedence, and the meeting is running a bit long. In fact, let�s go ahead and dismiss the meeting. Erestor and I will compile the submissions at a later time.�

Glorfindel fought hard to hide his elation. Sure, Elrond was disappointed, but he and Erestor could spend all afternoon sorting through the responses�or whatever it was they did behind closed doors. He didn�t care. He had managed to squirm out of a meeting, and that was all that mattered.

Lindir sprang from his chair like a scalded cat and darted past Glorfindel into the open hallway. �Thank you, Glorfindel!! I owe you one,� he called over his shoulder as he dashed down the corridor. Lindir had the attention span of a gnat. Sometimes Glorfindel wondered how he could concentrate long enough to form complete sentences.

�Nicely done,� said Elladan as he passed by.

Glorfindel flashed him a winning smile. �I�ve yet to encounter a situation I could not escape. It�s a talent.�

Elladan�s eyebrows arched in wry amusement, but he said nothing further. While Glorfindel celebrated his successful escape with the other Elves, Elladan leaned back against the wall and watched him with a bemused expression.

�Don�t waste your time on him,� snarked Erestor, pointing in Glorfindel�s general direction. �He�s too fickle and flighty for your affection. Commitment isn�t in his vocabulary. He darts from fancy to fancy with scarcely a second thought.�

�Perhaps he hasn�t found anyone worthy or capable of holding his attention,� Elladan replied, his eyes still locked on the animated blond. �With the right persuasion, I think someone could capture his imagination.�

Erestor snorted in disbelief. �I highly doubt it. It would be easier to tame a wild Warg than to tame Glorfindel. Set your sights on someone whose heart you can win.�

Elladan scratched his chin thoughtfully. �I see your point, Erestor. I have no desire or intention to pursue the unattainable, nor do I wish to cage Glorfindel�s free spirit. To try and do so would be little more than folly. Besides, the very thing that makes him so frustrating also makes him undeniably appealing. I�m happy to watch him from afar.�

Erestor shrugged and marched back into the empty meeting room, leaving Elladan alone to stare after the retreating Glorfindel. He wanted him, and lately, he�d made little attempt to hide it, though he suspected Glorfindel had not bothered to notice. Perhaps with a bit of planning and creativity that could change.

~*~

Glorfindel received several pats on the back as he made his way to the field house near the training yard. One unproductive meeting over early. Even if the rest of the day amounted to nothing, it had to be considered a success. Glorfindel smiled to himself. With any luck, Erestor was reading his bawdy list and cursing him straight to Mandos� hall and back.

That night, Glorfindel received his first note.

~*~

Despite appearances, Glorfindel wasn�t entirely unorganized. What seemed to others as a haphazard scattering of notes and piles of ledgers on his desk was actually his form of organizing. There was a method to his madness and an order to his chaos. Of course, it also helped that at least part of his life was scheduled. Each meal was served at a fixed time, which suited Glorfindel just fine, and every evening after dinner, he took a hot bath.

On that particular night, Glorfindel returned from his bath and found his bedroom door ajar. He tightened the knot on his bathrobe and pushed the door open. Nothing seemed amiss. None of his piles of clutter had been disturbed. Relieved, he closed the door behind him and locked it, just to be sure. After he dropped his dirty clothing in the growing pile to be laundered near the foot of his bed, he padded barefoot over to his writing desk to check his schedule for the next day.

That�s when he saw it. A neatly folded note lay atop a lone black leather glove, right in the center of his desk. Puzzled, he took the paper and unfolded it.

The mate to this glove is on my hand. I think of you when I wear it. The soft brush of leather gliding over my body warms me. I imagine that it is your hand stroking me. Smooth. Supple. Strong, but tender. I shiver beneath your touch.

Glorfindel leaned back in his chair and read the note in disbelief. It was a joke. It had to be a joke! Nobody in Imladris thought like that, and even if they did, nobody was stupid or brazen enough to leave such an incriminating message on the desk of an Executive Council member. But just to be sure, he read the note again. And once more after that.

The glove lay innocently on his desk, but Glorfindel hesitated to touch it. He knew all about psychological games. He�d played them before and this certainly was one, but he felt compelled to try on the glove regardless.

It fit perfectly, the supple leather conforming to his callused hand as if it were made for him. He flexed his fingers and reached for the note again. So, the writer wore it while thinking of him. Intrigued, Glorfindel spread his legs and let his robe fall open to reveal a flash of thigh. He ran his gloved hand up the inside of his leg and inhaled sharply. It felt better than he had expected, almost as if someone else were stroking him.

What if the letter wasn�t a joke? Who wrote it? Who was thinking of him as he touched himself? Glorfindel sank further into the chair and let his mind wander as his hand continued to explore. Perhaps it was the buxom blonde daughter of the head chef. Glorfindel had always found her attractive, and unless he was sorely mistaken, she fancied him as well. The note did not seem to be her style, though, so perhaps it was the lithe stable boy who took such good care of Asfaloth. Or perhaps it someone else entirely. The possibilities were endless.

Glorfindel�s gloved hand closed around his hardening erection and he quickly stroked himself to completion. As he sat in his chair, panting and breathless, he wondered what his admirer would think if he could see him at that exact moment.

He would soon find out.

~*~

The notes arrived like clockwork every night after his bath, seductive essays and sensual poetry designed to melt his warm body into boneless desire. He read each one while wearing the glove and imagining his secret lover doing the same.

After a week, however, the notes changed in tone.

I imagine watching you as you sit at your desk and think of me. You are beautiful, all long limbs and golden hair, lips parted in sated bliss. I long to do more than simply observe. I yearn to feel your muscles strain beneath my fingers, to hear you cry out as our bodies entwine, to taste your blood on my lips and to mark you as mine.

Tonight, stand at the window, naked, and touch yourself.

A shiver of trepidation raced down Glorfindel�s spine. The words thrilled him and frightened him at the same time. What manner of Elf would voice dark desires such as those mentioned in the letter? A flush of excitement heated Glorfindel�s cheeks. Truth be told, he felt those same yearnings, though he had not indulged that sort of activity since his time in Gondolin. Could it be that someone else in Imladris had a taste for the exotic? The idea quickened his pulse.

He thought of hungry eyes watching him as he walked from his desk to the window. With a shrug, he let the robe fall from his shoulders and pool on the floor round his ankles. He felt vulnerable and exposed in the pale moonlight as he peered out the arched window that looked down into the courtyard below. Not a soul stirred at this late hour, yet he felt the weight of eyes upon him. Just the thought of his lover watching him stirred his desire, and he closed his eyes as he cupped himself.

The first long stroke to his hardening length nearly took his breath away. Long suppressed desires swelled within him, enticed by the idea of being watched. He gasped at how strongly he felt the first flickers of desire. He placed one hand on the window for support and gave into his need, stroking himself until he came with a shuddering gasp. Weakly, he forced his eyes open and tried to focus through the haze of sated bliss that wrapped him like a warm blanket.

Underneath a tree on the edge of the courtyard stood a lone figure clad in a hooded cloak. Why had he not noticed him before? Glorfindel stared at him, though he could not see his shadowed face. This Elf found him beautiful? Standing in the soft halo of the moonlit window, he certainly felt luminous and desirable. Boldly, he raised his gloved hand to his lips and flicked out his tongue to taste the essence of his release.

The Elf in the courtyard watched, unmoving as Glorfindel licked each finger one by one. For a long moment, the Elf did nothing. Then, with a sudden move, he stepped into the shadows and disappeared.

Glorfindel chuckled softly to himself. �Amateur,� he said with a grin.

~*~

The next day dawned brilliantly, shining rays of golden light into Glorfindel�s bedchamber. He yawned, stretched his long limbs and swung his feet to the edge of the bed. On the table beside his bed lay a familiar folded note, along with a crumple of black lace. How in the name of F�anor�s Oath did someone sneak into his room without waking him? He frowned. Clearly, he had underestimated the skill of his secret admirer. Perplexed, Glorfindel plucked at the lacey pile with his thumb and forefinger and held it up so that the ends of it dangled down in front of his nose.

�What is this? A�garter belt? By Elbereth, it is a garter belt,� he breathed as he let it drop to the bedcovers. He snatched the note from where it lay and began to read.

You are so eager to gain control of any situation into which you are thrust, even those meant to be purely pleasurable. Today, let your senses rule your conscious mind. Wear the garter belt under your clothing, and as the lace licks and tickles so gently over your thighs, think of me.

Glorfindel snorted and tossed the note onto the floor. What Elf in his right mind would even consider wearing a garter belt? Not a warrior of his stature. It was ridiculous to ask him to wear female undergarments. But as he began to dress, his eyes kept drifting over to where the garter belt lay atop his bed.

How would the garter belt feel against his thighs? Glorfindel felt an unexpected tightening in his abdomen. Perhaps it would be more erotic than he had originally thought. Sheepishly, he crept back over to the side of his bed, and after glancing awkwardly around his empty room, he inspected the garter.

It looked to be far, far too small to comfortably fit over his hips, but maybe that was the point. Gingerly, he stepped into the belt and pulled it up over his thighs. Sure enough, it fit low around his hips, with the lace edges brushing over the bends of his legs and the silky ribbons dangling onto his upper thighs. As much as he hated to admit it, he found that he liked it. Even after he pulled on his leggings, the garter belt still tickled him gently with every step, and by the time he reached the training facility, he had the beginnings of an erection. Nervously, he tugged at his cloak, pulling it lower over his groin, but the bulge refused to cooperate and insisted on standing proudly at attention. Glorfindel gritted his teeth and flew past the field house to the stables that held the officers� horses.

Much to his relief, nobody had yet arrived for the morning training session. He ducked into an empty stall and yanked down his leggings.

�What, may I ask, are you doing wearing a garter?�

Glorfindel froze, leggings down around his knees, and watched in horror as Elladan grinned at him from the next stall over.

�I�umm�Heh�,� Glorfindel stammered.

�Nevermind. I don�t really want to know,� chuckled Elladan in reply. �But it�s a nice look for you.� With an affectionate slap to Glorfindel�s rump as he passed by, Elladan sauntered out into the morning sunshine.

Between that embarrassing encounter and the surprisingly sensual effect of silk ribbons grazing his bare thighs, Glorfindel never did quite focus on the sparring match that morning, and for the first time in decades, he lost to a student.

~*~

Glorfindel�s mood darkened from gray to pitch black when he saw Erestor prowling the hallway next to his private chamber. To be honest, he never liked seeing Erestor, but now was an especially bad time. First Engrod, now this. And to make matters worse, Erestor looked like he wanted to talk.

�We need to have a word about your personal goals,� Erestor began in a tone that said he meant business.

�Not now,� Glorfindel warned, brushing past him. He flung open his door so hard that it hit the wall behind it with a resounding bang. �Whatever you have to say can be said in the next staff meeting.� Hurriedly, he dashed to his desk and began frantically rooting around in the various piles for another note. Nothing. Dammit.

�A staff meeting is neither the time nor the place to discuss the inappropriate nature of your personal goal statement, unless you�d like for everyone to know that you enjoy pondering First Age teaspoons,� stated Erestor.

Glorfindel wheeled around, ripe with irritation, and glared at him. �I�m in no mood to discuss anything with you, so close the door behind you as you leave.�

�You�re never in the mood to do anything other than play around. Nevermind that Imladris needs you to be a leader. Glorfindel, when is the last time you were serious about anything other than a sparring match or a chess game?� Erestor�s hard expression softened and he continued, saying, �I know that your time with Mandos was trying. I can�t even imagine how difficult it must have been, but it�s time to take responsibility for yourself. You can�t float through life like a bird on the wind and drift wherever the breeze carries you. Life is more than fun and games. You of all Elves should know that.�

Glorfindel clenched his fists at his sides and yelled,� Are you deaf or just stupid?! I asked you once to leave, and I will not ask you again! Get out, Erestor!�

Erestor glared at the wild-eyed Elf. �That was uncalled for.�

Glorfindel took one menacing step forward. �OUT or I�ll throw you out myself!!�

�Fine,� growled Erestor as he shuffled to the door. �I�ll tell Elrond that your goal is to make monthly trips on a lame mule to Mordor to establish diplomatic relations with the Orcs.�

The door snapped shut with a sharp click, and Glorfindel heaved a defeated sigh. As annoying as he was, Erestor did have a point. Glorfindel�s first lifetime had been mostly blood and war, Balrogs and fire. He gave himself completely to Gondolin, and to Ecthelion, and lost both. Though he never regretted his personal sacrifice, he wondered if the price had been too high. Honor and glory were nice, but what he wanted more than anything was what he never had in his first life: fun. Foolish as it sounded, he longed to dangle his bare feet in a cool stream on a summer afternoon; to cut roses from the garden; to kiss a pretty girl or handsome boy under a full moon.

As he stood by himself in the center of his room, he gave serious consideration to Erestor�s pointed statements. In his quest for fun, had he gone too far? Had the scales of reason tipped precariously to the side of frivolity? Glorfindel pinched the bridge of his nose and winced. He honestly did not know.

~*~

Erestor thundered blindly down the hallway, intent on telling Lord Elrond exactly how asinine Glorfindel was acting, when he walked right into Elladan

�Forgive me, Elladan,� began Erestor, �I wasn�t paying attention.� He rubbed his nose, which was red from slamming into Elladan�s shoulder.

Elladan placed his hand on Erestor�s shoulder. �What has you so out of sorts?�

�Three guesses,� barked Erestor angrily, �and the first two don�t count! I swear to all the Valar above that I will send that Elf back to Mandos� halls with my own two hands! Kinslaying be damned!�

�I take it that Glorfindel is being uncooperative,� Elladan said, trying to bite back a grin.

�Uncooperative is an understatement,� cried Erestor. �He�s too busy playing around to take his work seriously! What he needs is some discipline.�

Elladan�s bemused expression darkened. �I couldn�t agree more.�

~*~

The door to Glorfindel�s rooms opened once again, squeaking faintly on rusted hinges as it swung inward. Couldn�t Erestor just leave him alone?

�I think you have said quite enough, Erestor,� said Glorfindel, not bothering to raise his head.

Without warning, a strong arm wrapped round his waist and a firm hand gripped his chin, pulling him back against a firm chest. �Erestor said you needed an attitude adjustment, and I�m happy to oblige,� hissed a familiar voice.

Glorfindel stiffened, blindsided by the surprise attack, and then began to struggle. He wrenched and wriggled and twisted against the strong Elf who held him fast, but nothing seemed to work.

�I thought you said you could escape any situation,� the Elf teased.

�Elladan, you rotten sack of horse shit,� growled Glorfindel through clenched teeth. �It�s your fault I lost to Engrod! If you hadn�t insisted I wear that stupid garter belt, I would have won easily!�

Elladan chuckled into Glorfindel�s ear. �You wouldn�t have worn it if you didn�t want to wear it. I learned long ago that no Elf can make the great Glorfindel do anything he does not want to do. I did not insist, I enticed.�

Glorfindel�s cheeks flushed with indignation, but he could not deny the truth of the statement. Elladan somehow discovered his unusual tastes and made the act of wearing a garter belt sound irresistible. �Why are you doing this, Elladan?�

�To get your attention,� Elladan said. �I thought that if I could capture your interest and imagination, I could capture your heart. Surely you know I admire you. I�ve adored you ever since I was an Elfling, but until now, I�ve been satisfied with worshipping you from afar. That no longer satisfies me. I want you. All of you.�

Suddenly, Glorfindel felt like a caged animal trapped in a sensual snare that was partially his own doing. �You certainly have my attention, and I do admire your creativity, but do you honestly think you can tame me?� he said with a voice that sounded panicked even to his own ears.

�Absolutely.� The voice that purred in his ear was nothing short of feral, and with a move swift enough to rival a stalking tiger, Elladan shoved him hard against the bedroom wall, and pinned him there with his body. �I mastered you in the sparring ring, and from that day forward I longed to master you completely. For all your bluster and bravado, you�re entirely predictable. Offer a challenge, and you feel compelled to accept.�

A rush of fiery desire flared up from his loins, and Glorfindel leaned his baking forehead against the cool stone wall. �And if I don�t accept�what then? Will you force me? Even one as single-minded as you would not do that,� he offered weakly.

One of the hands that held him fast snaked down Glorfindel�s torso to cup the growing bulge in his leggings. His entire body jerked in response. �You won�t refuse me. One of your goals was to find a mate whose taste for lust and adventure rivals your own. I am that Elf, and tonight I will prove it to you.�

Glorfindel chanced a glance over his shoulder. The sight froze him in place. Obviously, Elladan had planned in advance, for he wore a tight-fitting, black leather jerkin and trousers, and from his belt dangled a coil of braided leather. Glorfindel�s mouth went completely dry. Elladan was seduction personified.

�Sweet Manw�,� breathed Glorfindel as Elladan unhooked the whip from his belt.

�Not even Manw� can save you now,� Elladan replied with a smirk. He cracked the whip in the air just above Glorfindel�s head. �Hands on the wall.�

Glorfindel silently complied.

The first lick of pain across his back sent a shockwave through him that rippled down his spine to settle hotly in his groin. He arched back into it, awaiting the next stripe with trembling anticipation. The blows came in rapid succession, criss-crossing his back and thighs, flailing his shirt and leggings until they were little more than tatters. He cried out, yet still they came, raining down on him in a bloody torrent of liquid agony. It wasn�t until his knees buckled that Elladan let the whip slip from his hand.

Before Glorfindel could sink to the floor, Elladan caught him and lowered him gently to the stone tiles. The tattered remains of his shirt were easily torn away, leaving his back exposed to the cool air. He groaned and shifted as Elladan traced one long stripe with his fingertips�and then followed it with the tip of his tongue. What had begun as searing pain melted into hot pleasure. Elladan�s tongue traced a wicked track down Glorfindel�s back, mouthing and laving affection into each wound until Glorfindel bucked and writhed beneath him.

�Please�it�s unbearable,� gasped Glorfindel in breathless agony.

�Yes, it looks painful,� Elladan remarked as he reached beneath his trembling partner to grasp his swollen cock. �Let me give you relief.�

The shreds of his leggings fell away in threadbare strips, and soon Glorfindel lay naked and broken, helpless beneath Elladan�s sweet kisses and smooth caresses. He nibbled at the tender skin between Glorfindel�s thighs, sucking and lapping until it reached ripe fruition. Glorfindel was unmade, boneless and panting in a state of bliss. He raised glassy eyes to Elladan, blinking as if in a hazy fog.

Elladan shifted his body, pushing apart Glorfindel�s legs and nestling himself between them. �Do you still doubt my ability to master you completely? If so, then let me offer the final argument,� he murmured.

The intensity of their coupling rivaled that of their foreplay. Their bodies entwined, melting together so that Glorfindel could not tell where he ended and where Elladan began. Climax came with a shuddering jolt that rocketed through them both, leaving them gloriously wrecked and deliciously spent.

After a few quite moments of sated bliss, Glorfindel shifted in Elladan�s arms and reached to stroke his cheek with the palm of his hand. �I�m a difficult Elf to love. I�m moody and careless and have all the tact of a rabid mongoose. Are you certain you wish to pursue me?�

�I need not pursue that which I have already ensnared,� Elladan teased in reply. He caught Glorfindel�s hand and pressed a warm kiss to the inside of his wrist. �I love you for who you are: free and wild and impossibly irritating. I want to spend the rest of my life trying to keep you under control.�

Glorfindel grinned sheepishly. �Fair enough. I will promise to spend the rest of my life rising to the challenge. After all, the fun is in the chase.�

�Indeed it is, and I will chase you to the ends of Arda,� Elladan murmured against Glorfindel�s neck.

The blond stifled a moan. �I�d be disappointed if you didn�t. But one last question.�

Elladan raised his head and stared down at his new lover. �Anything.�

�Do you know how to tie a cherry stem with your tongue?�

~*~

The end