back to Strange Fates
Will I Always Be?
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The rain striking down upon the roof made the hall sound very large and hollow, empty and lonely. Elrond, sitting on the floor with his back to the glowing coals of an almost-dead fire, watched the rainwater falling beyond the window. He silently mouthed the words of a private song to the water's erratically regular rhythm. He and Gil-galad were to have taken a walk around the fortress that afternoon, but the driving rain would be sure to put an end to any thought of outdoor recreation.
Down the hall in the meeting room, the captains had gathered at Gil-galad's request. They had spent the entire morning, and much of the afternoon, in planning several scouting parties down into Eregion, where Orc activity had been reported. The king had those of the Noldor that still remained in Middle Earth and a fair company of Grey Elves, the soldiers sent by his friend and one time lover, Círdan the Shipwright.
"Are you in need of anything, my Lord?" said a quiet voice from the doorway. The mistress of the bakery was standing there, staring at him as though he had turned green with spots.
"No, thank you," Elrond said. He bowed his face away from her, uncomfortable under her strange gaze. "Unless it would not be too much trouble for you to find someone to bring more wood for the fire? And also, if possible..." he paused. "Is Gi- ...the king engaged with council? I wish to see him, if not."
"I'll send in someone with more wood," the Elf-woman said briskly. "As for the King, I don't pretend to know his business-"
There was a sudden sound of many footsteps in the hall and the murmur of voices heading down the main staircase. The baker stepped back and, framed in the doorway behind her, Elrond could see the outline of Gil-galad - the tall, well-muscled frame and long, flowing hair shadowed by the dim firelight. "Ah - there you are, Elrond. Good, good. Saves me running all over the house looking for you." He stepped around the woman and into the hall, smiling warmly. "What have you been up to this afternoon?"
"I was just watching the rain." Elrond stood, a wave of relief passing through his body. The sight of Gil-galad, one of the few familiar faces to be found within the wide foreign corridors, was comforting.
He had been in Lindon, in the king's house for less than two months. In that short time, he had convinced himself that he would never feel quite at home in large rooms with high ceilings. Though this was his home now, and since Elros preferred to live with the race of men, Gil-galad was his only family, and also, it seemed, the only one who acted kindly toward him. The others were so distant and formal, or even contemptuous.
Elrond glanced at the baker, who bowed to the king before turning to retreat. Watching her go, he stepped toward Gil-galad. The hall was cold away from the fire, and shivering, he pulled his tunic tighter around his slender shoulders. "I don't think your servants much care for me."
Gil-galad looked sympathetic and walked toward the younger Elf. "I don't think they much like anyone right now. We're all of us somewhat battered at the moment, and given what's happened it's really not all that strange..."
He noticed Elrond's shivering and pulled him close. "You feel like a block of ice," he murmured. "Come to the fire and get warm."
Guiding Elrond to the hearth, Gil-galad felt a strong stir of protectiveness towards the Halfelven. They had known each other only briefly by Elvish reckoning, having met when he and Círdan had found the twin sons of Ëarendil playing by the edge of Sirion's waters, yet from the beginning some strong pull had brought them together. Círdan had brought the boys back to Balar and Elrond, though still very young, had become Gil-galad's constant companion. Then the War of Wrath had come, sending the island and all of Beleriand under the waves. Only Círdan's ships had saved them and now they had come here - to Lindon - trying to gather those of the Eldar who still survived.
Coming out of the brief reverie, Gil-galad poked the fire to life and drew Elrond down beside him. "We have much work to do here," he said, staring into the flames. "Not only soldiering, but making this a true residence of kings." He was silent for a moment and then asked, "What would you have here that is lacking now?"
"Smaller rooms," Elrond replied. "Everything is so cold and open." He leaned in closer toward Gil-galad, resting his head on the king's shoulder and allowing himself to be comforted by the heat of the other's body. Sitting with Gil-galad he no longer felt the chill of the hall, but still he shivered. "I would also like to be included in your council with the captains. I know we've discussed this before, and you think me too young for such matters, but how should I ever acquire military experience when I've no chance to try?"
"I thought you've been happy enough with your lore," Gil-galad replied, letting his arm drape around the younger Elf. "But thinking of it now, you've hardly touched your books since we arrived, even after all the trouble you took to save them from the flood." He turned to look down into Elrond's pensive face. "Why is that? And why are you more interested in military strategy then digging up some wonderful story to tell around the fireside? Are you feeling unwell?"
Elrond dropped his head and glanced away. He couldn't bear it, the questioning gaze of Gil-galad. The intensity in the king's face was fascinating but frightening, and the bonding of their eyes made the blood rush hot through his body while at the same time he still shook with a strange chill. Wherever Gil-galad's arm lay across his back, his skin tingled in shock. "Only so much can be done with lore," he managed to say. "Often times a sword would do better work. I only wish to be capable in battle, should it come to that. I would fight alongside you." His words were slow and carefully chosen, but his thoughts were betrayed by his face and he felt a blush of pink creep into his fair skin. Gil-galad reached over and lifted Elrond's chin so that their gazes met.
"Don't be so eager for battle, dear friend. We can always hope that the Valars' wrath put an end to Morgoth's evil, once and for all." He smiled slowly, eyes roving over the younger Elf's face. "I would so much like to focus my attention on *other* things..."
"Other... things?" The words were choked by chattering teeth, and Elrond felt the flush coursing through his cheeks burn twice as hot. "What things?"
"Oh," Gil-galad said casually, turning away to look into the fire again, "lots of things. I should like to supervise the strengthening of the fortress, and help with the exercising of the horses..." He gave Elrond a sidelong glance. "And I should like to have you read to me... out of those books of yours."
"I could read to you any time, if you want me to. Right now, or perhaps... later..." He knew he spoke too quickly and too eagerly, but determination not to let his insecurities show kept his eyes fixed on Gil-galad's. "That is," he added, "if you're not busy."
The king made a face. "I am, unfortunately. I was told in the council that a messenger from Círdan arrived this morning from Harlond, and he's waiting on me even now." He stroked Elrond's cheek again and smiled. "But I wanted to stop in and say hello to you before I met with him." They gazed at each other just a moment longer than was necessary, and then Gil-galad pulled back. "Now, why don't you spend the next hour finding the perfect tale to tell me. Then, come to my rooms when the hour is up and I'll be waiting, all right?"
Elrond remained seated for a long while after Gil-galad left, hugging his knees close under his chin and watching the fire slowly die.
There were many books. Nearly eighty, Elrond guessed, some which he had brought and some which had been brought by others and left in his care. And as there was no shelf yet to hold them, they stood in stacks upon tables and chairs in an otherwise unoccupied room. Elrond ran his fingers over covers and down hard-bound spines, trying to create some small noise to fill the terribly quiet space. He hated hearing the sound of his own rushed and furious heartbeats echoing off of blank walls.
"Surely the hour is nearly up..." he whispered to himself. Through the window, he could see the rain had stopped and the sky outside was clear but darkening. "It must be up..." He smoothed his hair with his hands and straightened the plaits. Then with an unsure reach he took the nearest book, thick and bound in dark yellow. Holding it tight to his chest, he forced himself to walk slowly, confidently, toward the king's chambers.
Gil-galad had just arrived himself and was in the process of taking off his outer robe when Elrond knocked. He looked up to see the younger Elf step into the rooms and smiled. "Good news from Harlond," he said taking off his shoes. "They've had no Orc raids for a week. Seems that last massacre has scared them off." He stood and hung his robe on a hook, facing Elrond in only a simple tunic and leggings. "And we've got a party of fifty of our kindred headed to the Gulf - probably day after tomorrow."
He moved around the room, drawing the makeshift drapes against the twilight at the windows. "You know, Elrond" he said softly, "every lost soul who comes in from the wilderness makes my heart glad. Perhaps the Noldor will not die out under my reign."
"No," said Elrond. "Under your leadership we will grow strong again, and rebuild the greatness of the stories of older days." Silence lingered for a moment before Elrond cleared his throat and continued. "I've, erm, brought a book to read. It's one I've not seen before, so it may have come with the company that arrived yesterday. Perhaps they will have recorded stories that neither of us have heard."
"Splendid," the king said, poking at the fire, which had been banked in the grate. He seated himself before it and, when Elrond was beside him, stretched out on his side and propped his head on his hand. "I like to watch you when you read," he murmured happily. "Your face shows all the emotions that are in the story, did you know that?"
Elrond blushed with a self-conscious smile, and said nothing in reply. He gracelessly fumbled to set the book in his lap and open the cover. "This, um, is a book about..." The light pink in his cheeks grew to red as he stared down at the title page. He bit his lower lip. Muttering in embarrassment, he continued, "It is a catalogue of plants native to the realm of Doriath."
Across from him, Gil-galad lifted one eyebrow in bemusement. "You were right, dear friend," he said in a low voice. "It *was* one we'd never heard before..." A slow smile stole across his lips. "...and hopefully will never hear of again."
"Hopefully..." Elrond mumbled. He set the book down beside him and pushed it away. "I should have looked to see what it was before I brought it here. Now I suppose I should go get a new one." He paused. "Or I could make up a story for you?"
Gil-galad's face lit up. "Would you really?" he said, grinning broadly. "I'd be a very appreciative audience, you know..."
"I can try." Elrond sat up straighter, cross-legged with his hands resting on his knees, and cleared his throat. "There is a land far away, further in the East than any of us has ever gone. No Elf has seen this land, nor man, and indeed only the Valar can be sure of its existence. And they say it is populated by a race much like the Elves, but far more powerful, and these beings call themselves the Vihatrë. They are taller than us, and all with white hair and red eyes, and many are terrible sorcerers with power enough to kill lesser beings with a glance. Also they have found ways to travel through time; this is why we can never hope to find them. If any ship comes near, they will move their island into the past or future, and it will disappear from our sight."
He paused for a moment, staring into the fire as if to think of what came next. Finally he continued, "There are two cities on their island, one made of silver and the other of stone. The silver city is called Nírewesh, which in their language means 'Flame of the Sea', because the outer wall of the city is crowned with sixty great torches that burn without fuel, for such is the power of the Vihatrë, and the firelight reflects from the silver domes and spires, casting all in bright flickering orange on blue-black, like fire on water. But the stone city is far poorer, and it is called Farharudesh, meaning 'City of the Dark Cold'. There is no bright fire to light the nights in Farharudesh, and so the citizens there are unhappy, without warmth or joy, and they have forgotten friendship and love.
"But it was not always so bleak. At one time a great king, Mahara, ruled over Farharudesh, and his brother, Harcaru, over Nírewesh. Then Farharudesh was named Faranu, the Green City, as it was filled with trees and covered all over in delicate leafy vines, and through the power of Mahara it was always springtime within the city walls. For a time during the twin reigns of the brother-kings, the island of the Vihatrë lay in a golden age of wealth and prosperity. But Mahara was weak in his passions, and he fell in love with a maiden named Shihadrep, who was promised to Harcaru. His love for her was so great that he could think of nothing but her, so that her constant presence in his mind drove him mad.
"On the morning that Harcaru and Shihadrep were to be married, Mahara rode to Nírewesh. He carried with him an amulet of dark silver, onto which he had cast an enchantment. Whoever took the amulet would forget all of the past and see only him, and love him. This was his plan for Shihadrep. He found her, alone, in the second spire of Harcaru's palace. She took the amulet willingly, thinking it a fair gift and not knowing of its enchantment. Immediately she fell into his thrall, forgetting everything of Harcaru, and she went with Mahara away from Nírewesh to hide with him in the protection of the vines of Faranu.
"When Harcaru found his beloved gone, he was overcome by sorrow. He ran to the fourth spire where he kept a collection of twelve mirrors, each able to show him a different vision from the present, the future, or the past. There in the third mirror, showing the near past, he saw Mahara take Shihadrep by the hand. And then his sorrow was even greater because he had been betrayed by his own brother."
Elrond stopped there, still staring into the fire. Throughout his speech, his fingers had been twisting slowly in the folds of his light robe, and they now lay still, tightly clutching knots of fabric. Gil-galad, watching the tension move through those long fingers, put and hand out and caressed them. "Caught up in your own story, eh?" he murmured, searching Elrond's face. "Please - don't stop there. You have me utterly captivated..."
"I just..." Elrond shifted to face Gil-galad, meeting his eyes. With a slow turn of the wrist, his hand clasped the king's and he returned the gentle touches. "I'm not sure where the story goes from here."
The King's eyes gleamed and he gave his companion a slow smile, the edge of one thumb trailing along Elrond's, just light enough to be felt. "Well then," he said in a low voice, "why don't you tell me where you *want* it to go..."
Elrond blushed with a coy smirk. "I could not say such things aloud." Raised eyebrows greeted this remark as Gil-galad brought Elrond's hands to his lips for a soft kiss. It wasn't a very bold move; they had been dancing around each other for a good month and the King had managed to slip in a few touches here and there, tokens of affection for chores well done and stories well told. Always small, always tasteful, and maddening to the core for Gil-galad, smitten as he was with the lovely man-child of Ëarendil. He longed for more, but while Elrond had not spurned any of these intimacies, neither had he shown anything of his own heart in the matter and the King would not push, preferring to allow the Halfelven to discover his own feelings.
"Of course you can say it out loud," he murmured at last. "It's only the two of us, after all, and I would hate to think that you have secret desires you couldn't share with me."
"I would share everything with you," Elrond replied in whisper. Slowly, he freed a hand from Gil-galad's, barely brushing his fingers along the curve of the king's lips and the angle of his jaw to rest lightly on his neck just below his ear. But this contact lasted only a second, until Elrond grew hesitant once again and pulled away.
"Would you?" Gil-galad said, eyes gone dark with desire. "I wonder... But come now - don't leave the story like that. Surely there must be something of happiness in the tale." He caught up Elrond's hand and held it fast.
"There is happiness. For a moment. But it ends with grief. I can see that in the fire..." He squeezed Gil-galad's hand as he stared into the flames. "When Mahara brought Shihadrep back to Faranu, he thought they would be safe, at least even for a while. She had forgotten everything of Harcaru, whom she did not truly love, and so all of her devotion was given over to Mahara. And he in turn loved her dearly.
"Shihadrep sang for Mahara, and danced, and he watched her with admiration, for she was in truth the most beautiful of all he had ever beheld. He desired above all simply to have her near him, to have her in his arms, to kiss her and to feel the locks of her long soft hair slip between his fingers. He desired to see the light of happiness in his own eyes reflected in hers as they lay close together, pure and unclothed, with all the bright stars above watching over them..."
With every word, Gil-galad relaxed before the fire, his gaze on Elrond, eyes half closed, like a very comfortable cat. His fingers teased the sensitive skin of Elrond's palm as the younger Elf spoke. "But that is all of the happiness in this story," Elrond said. "From here on it is only sorrow..." He pulled Gil-galad's hand toward him, closer, until it rested on his thigh near the hem of his tunic, and he held it there. "And I do not wish now to speak of that."
"But surely," Gil-galad mused, running his thumb just below the fold of fabric, "if this is *your* tale, then *you* can decide the fate of the characters." A soft heat came from underneath Elrond's leggings, the silk of his skin so close to that searching finger. "Do you not believe in happy endings, dear friend?" Gil-galad asked, letting his eyes trail down for a moment to where his hand pushed at the younger Elf's clothing.
"I do," Elrond replied. "But this is not entirely my tale. I just repeat what the fire tells me." Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he was pulling Gil-galad's hand higher, closer, further under the fabric.
"What does the fire tell you now?" Gil-galad said, his voice a low purr as his fingers teased and caressed. "What does it say about your own happiness...?"
"I do not know; it is hard to say whether I see my own fate or that of another. But I think that it must be the doom of another I see..." Elrond slid from his seated position and leaned over Gil-galad, so near that his hair fell over the older Elf's shoulder. "...because I can't imagine myself in anything other than happiness, as long as I am here with you..."
Softly as a pass of silk over grass, he kissed Gil-galad, on the cheek. It was still nothing they hadn't done before, although the fact that it lingered, warm and sweet on the king's skin, put it on the threshold of boldness. As Elrond pulled back a bit, Gil-galad turned his face so that they were eye to eye, noses almost touching. For a tantalizing moment their breath mingled and then the older Elf spoke, moving lips grazing Elrond's. "I would give you greater happiness still," he whispered, "if you would only take it..."
Elrond smiled at him. "I would take it." And he kissed him again, this time less softly, on the mouth.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The king made a soft, hungry sound in the back of his throat. Elrond's mouth was silk, pure silk and heat, and there didn't seem to be anyway to get enough of it. His hands, eager for their own treat, came up to tangle in the dark strands of the younger Elf's hair and for long moments he ate softly at that sweet mouth. When they broke apart he held Elrond close, brushing his lips teasingly with his own. "Is this," he panted, grasping for control, "is this what you want...?"
One of Elrond's hands moved slowly to Gil-galad's chest, caressing across and around before finding and toying with the few of small buttons at the neck of his tunic, and Elrond only said, "Yes," before returning to the kiss with deeper longing and intensity.
Gil-galad let out a long sigh of pleasure and wrapped his arms around Elrond's waist, tugging him gently atop him to the floor. Then, as the kiss went on, he rolled over slowly, sprawling atop the younger Elf, hot and breathless. "You don't know how long I've wanted to do this," he whispered, trailing kisses along Elrond's jaw. The skin was warm and carried a soft tang to it, a blend of salt and sweat and fragrant soap. "Ohh... my *sweet* child..."
Elrond rolled his head back as the kisses advanced down his neck. Inhaling sharply at the sensation, he let a tiny moan escape from his throat. His hands searched the king's back for an opening in the clothing and, finding the hem of the tunic, slipped underneath. He scratched his fingernails lightly over bare skin as he pressed his body closer against the other's.
Sweet and sweeter still those kisses tasted, Gil-galad tugging softly at Elrond's tunic and nuzzling the damp skin that joined neck and shoulder. He sucked at it delicately, then kissed the small bruise he'd made before pressing warm lips to the boy's throat. "Ah, so sweet of you to let me..."
Elrond's hands moved along Gil-galad's back, beneath his clothing, urging him upward until their mouths met again, and the curves of his lips were traced by Elrond's tongue. The younger Elf arched beneath him, seeking to be ever closer, until their legs became twined together as the king slid between Elrond's thighs.
"Sweet heaven, you're a feast," he whispered against that warm mouth, Elrond's fingertips sending fire through his veins with every touch. His own fingers were tugging the Halfelven's tunic off his shoulders, hungry for the creamy skin beneath. "And I," he moaned softly, shivering at the feeling of hips pressing up to his, "I... am starving..."
"Then do not wait." Elrond hissed. After one more begging kiss he turned his face aside, brushing his lips over Gil-galad's cheek to his ear, inhaling the scent of the dark strands falling across his nose and mouth. Then he arched his back again and pushed himself upward as Gil-galad's hands pulled at his tunic, freeing the garment from under him and letting it slip over his shoulders, head and arms until it lay discarded out of the way on the hearth.
Gil-galad needed no more persuasion. He fell upon the younger Elf, kissing, suckling, hands everywhere at once until he fastened upon one sweet nipple, grazing it lightly with his teeth before circling his tongue around it and suckling hard. His fingers moved slowly down Elrond's chest and found the other, pinching it in time to his rhythmic sucking, a low growl of pleasure in his throat.
Elrond gasped and writhed, half crying out, though the sound was cut short by sharp breaths. His hands found their way out of Gil-galad's clothing and into the king's hair, which wound around and tickled the sensitive skin at his wrists.
"But the floor..." he managed through clenched teeth, "...is very cold..."
"Is it now?" the king breathed, scooping him up and then standing. "Well, we'll have to find you someplace warmer now, won't we?" he said in a low, seductive voice. "I believe my bed is very warm indeed..."
"Mmmm..." Smiling, Elrond nuzzled against Gil-galad's neck, hands retaining a firm grip on his hair. "Or at least it will be soon..."
He let the older Elf carry him to the bed which stood in the far corner of the room, and the two fell down upon soft pillows and thick blankets. "Mmm, yes," Gil-galad sighed, covering Elrond's body with his own. "This is *much* better..." His mouth closed over the younger Elf's, his kisses firm and insistent and all the while his hands fingered the lacings at the crotch of Elrond's leggings. Nimble fingers made quick work of the knots and then one large hand slipped down inside the soft leather, cupping the erection he found waiting for him. The king let out a soft moan of pleasure and squeezed gently. "Oh, you *are* ready for this, aren't you?" he murmured.
Elrond's breath grew loud and raw as he pushed himself into Gil-galad's hand, spreading his legs further apart at the touch. "Yes," he said. "Oh yes..." He shut his eyes and let his mouth fall open with a gasp of desire.
Another firm squeeze and the king whispered, "I do believe these leggings are in my way. Time for them to go." And with that he deftly withdrew his hand and stripped the soft leather from Elrond's legs, smiling down at the exposed Elf beneath him. "Beautiful," he murmured, lightly stroking the inside if Elrond's thigh. "Just beautiful..."
"Oh, my Lord... Gil-galad..." Elrond's own hands were working hastily to unbutton Gil-galad's tunic, though his fingers shook and fumbled.
It seemed long seconds before the buttons were undone, and then Elrond was quick to pull the tunic away, running his hands at last over the smooth skin of the older Elf's bare chest.
"Uhhn, your hands send fire through my veins, dear one... How badly I've longed to touch you..." Gil-galad kissed Elrond slowly just to one side of his lips, then trailed more kisses along the edge of his jaw, finding a sensitive area just beneath it and suckling at it gently. As Elrond held his breath at the soft kisses, his hands crawled slowly down the king's body, resting briefly at his waist before continuing even lower. The younger Elf's fingertips slipped hesitantly inside the snug leggings but then stopped after a few mere inches, nervous and unsure. "Don't stop my lovely," the king purred, "your hands feel so good... like fire on my skin." As Gil-galad suckled softly at Elrond's throat he murmured encouragements, his own hands stroking the younger Elf's trembling flanks, running over his body like water.
"I... I've never..." One of Elrond's hands moved again, still very cautiously, sliding further inside the clothing until it brushed the tip of Gil-galad's evident arousal. Then uncertain fingers closed around the shaft, stroking and teasing as they moved; timid at first, but then with increasing confidence and lust.
"Yes," the king whispered, hands finding their way to Elrond's chest. "Ah, you feel so *good*... I've dreamt about this, you know... what it might be like... but it's so much better than anything I expected..." He continued to spread kisses over Elrond's throat as his thumbs teased at the younger Elf's sensitive nipples. They were stiff, pebble-hard, and the feel of them beneath his fingers was maddeningly erotic.
"I've dreamt of you too," Elrond said, speaking quietly into Gil-galad's hair, "that you kissed me..." Elrond's free hand snaked its way to the older Elf's chin and pulled it up until the two were again face to face. He closed his mouth around Gil-galad's lower lip, sucking, tasting, and gently biting before breaking away just far enough to murmur, "Never stop kissing me."
"I don't think I'll ever be able to now," Gil-galad murmured. "I've had my taste of paradise and nothing will ever be quite as good... as good as you..." He gave Elrond another long, searing kiss and then nuzzled his way downwards, taking one hardened nipple into his mouth and suckling at it, gently.
"Nnnnn..." Elrond moaned, and his nails scratched over Gil-galad's shoulders as he arched his back toward the king's mouth. "You torment me..."
"Mmm... and I mean to go on tormenting you... I want you in an agony of desire, begging me for it..." He gave the stiff nub a little bite before nuzzling over to its twin, but before he bent his head to it he looked up at Elrond, eyes locking onto eyes. "But I must insist," he purred, "that you wait until I say give you permission to come... do you understand me?"
"Yes... I think... I can try..."
"That's a good boy," the king hummed, falling on the nipple and suckling until it was as wet as its mate. While he did this, he let his hand trail down Elrond's belly, his fingers brushing the damp curls between the Halfelven's legs. "Tell me, my lovely child... do you want me to touch you...?"
"Yes," Elrond sighed, "more than anything." Under Gil-galad's sweet teasing lips, his body tensed and writhed, and his nails scratched harder over the king's shoulders and arms, marring the pale skin to shades of pink. He twisted and moved his hips, trying to find any small precious second of contact. "More than anything..."
The king's hand hovered over the straining erection, teasing at it. He gave a soft, low chuckle against Elrond's chest. "Eager, aren't we love? Ohh, I'm going to make you burn for me..." He pressed a kiss to the flat belly beneath him and let his fingertips graze over his new lover's cock, pulling gently at it with a long, slow stroke, and Elrond moaned again, though this time the sound was lower and darker.
"I burn for you now," he said. "I need you..." And then he was silent, save for his breath, which grew coarser at Gil-galad's touch. The king rested his head on Elrond's body, gazing with rapt attention at the shaft he stroked.
"Such a pretty thing... I should have someone paint a portrait of you, just like this, on one of my chamber walls..." Then he laughed, realizing how impossible something like would be. "Tell me, Elrond," he murmured, cupping his fingers around the boy's soft, heavy balls, "what kinds of fantasies have you had? Any about me...?"
Elrond blushed and laughed himself, biting his lip. "I... I suppose..." His hands combed through Gil-galad's hair and clasped the dark locks. "I've often thought, when it was very dark or cold at night and I lay in bed alone, that I should like to come to you... And then we could lie together, with your arms around me, and I would kiss you, and feel your body beneath my hands... and then we... and then we would..." His voice trailed off into silence, and he bit his lip again.
"Yes...?" Gil-galad asked, smiling against Elrond's skin and give his balls a gentle squeeze. "What comes next? What do you do with me when you have me beneath your hands?" His fingers trailed downwards and wriggled in between the soft cheeks, seeking the heat of Elrond's entrance. "What have you always dreamed of doing?"
"Uhhh..." As the king's fingertips pressed against his body Elrond shivered, and said, "I would run my hands over you, all over, touching and seeing; I would want to just see you and look at you there beside me: your arms and legs and chest and back and... And I would want to know the scent and taste of your skin... Then I would say to you that whatever you wish, anything you desire, I would do for you, as I am yours entirely..."
"Oh, dear child," the king sighed against the warmth of Elrond's skin. "You know that's *just* what I want to hear don't you...?" His fingers rubbed softly at that tender place as he pressed lingering kisses to the boy's flat belly and then buried his face in the dark curls between his legs. "Mmm... the smell of you makes me *drunk*..." Indeed, it was a musky, compelling scent that quickened his breathing and made his own shaft ache with need. It was all he could do to go slowly, to not take the younger Elf right then. He couldn't, of course; he knew that would hurt him and above all else he wanted this first time to be perfect... so perfect that Elrond would beg him for more.
As he lay there Elrond's hands slowly slid from his hair and fell to the bed beside them, furiously clutching handfuls of the blanket fabric. He was very quiet, as if holding his breath. His eyes were closed. Then gently, with aching slowness, Gil-galad dropped his head and pressed a kiss to the boy's shaft. It twitched under his mouth and the king smiled, stroking Elrond's flanks to calm him. "So beautiful, my dear one," he whispered, his breath warm against the younger Elf's skin. "More beautiful than I would ever have imagined..."
His voice trailed off as his fingers slid to the sensitive places of Elrond's inner thighs, pressing them gently open before giving a slow, firm lick to the shaft between them. Elrond gasped before letting out a soft shuddering moan, and his entire body tensed at the fervid movement of Gil-galad's tongue. "Oh my Lord..." he whispered with a low hoarse voice. "My Lord... my Gil-galad..."
"Mmm... I knew you would taste sweet," the king sighed, "and such a lovely feast for a man who's been hungry so long." Another lick, from root to tip and then Gil-galad engulfed him, sliding his lips down the shaft, rubbing it firmly with his tongue and sucking gently. He sighed with pleasure. Elrond was, as he'd known he would be, such a perfect lover for him - innocent but eager, willing to let him have his way.
His mouth worked over Elrond's erection and the younger Elf moaned again, this time louder. His hands twisted in the blankets and his head rolled to the side, violently clenching his teeth. Slowly, he lifted his hips from the bed and raised his body slightly toward Gil-galad's mouth. The king took him in to the root, his nose pressing up against the fragrant curls of hair. He moved on him, up and down, suckling, caressing with his tongue and delving into the tiny eye at the top. His fingers stroked between Elrond's buttocks, running up and down the warm, soft cleft. Elrond squirmed at the pleasure of the older Elf's mouth, and he gently rocked his hips with each of Gil-galad's movements.
As the seconds passed he first tensely held his breath, then gasped for air, then held his breath again at the sensation of the king's tongue and fingertips gliding over his body. Over and over Gil-galad rasped at the twitching shaft, leaking now and pushing deeper into his throat with every thrust of Elrond's hips. His fingertips pressed further inwards, coming to rest on the younger Elf's tight entrance, rubbing at it softly, just enough so that Elrond knew he was there. Then the boy made one final move against Gil-galad's mouth and fingers, and he released his hold on the blankets. His hands reached to Gil-galad's hair, trying to still the king's actions.
"Stop," he said. He pulled away from the older Elf, breathing heavily. "Stop now, or else I... or else I'll... I will..."
But Gil-galad didn't stop; in fact the small protest only made him focus his efforts, circling his tongue under the sensitive rim before gliding up and down again, barely grazing his teeth against the shaft. Give it up to me, sweetling... I want to taste you...
"Uhhhhh..." Elrond pulled at Gil-galad's hair as his entire body strained. A sharp inhalation of air was followed quickly by a muted cry, and Elrond came to shuddering release, spilling his heat onto Gil-galad's tongue. Swallowing every drop, Gil-galad held still until he knew the younger Elf was spent and then slowly, with great care, licked him clean. Then he rested his head on Elrond's hip and wrapped his long, dark hair around the softening shaft to keep it warm.
"That's my beautiful boy," he whispered. "Ah, heaven how I've wanted you..."
Elrond's hands slid up to rest on his stomach as his arms went limp, and he lay back enervated on the bed, just breathing. "You said to me..." he gasped, "that I had to wait... until you told me I could... to..." He let his head fall to the side. "You said I had to wait until you told me..."
"How could I tell you," Gil-galad purred, smiling against the younger Elf's skin, "when you were putting my mouth to such good use? I really had no inclination to stop and, I think, neither did you... We'll just have to be more thoughtful about it next time." He lifted his head and gazed heatedly at Elrond's face. "And what do you feel like doing now, eh my pretty child?"
Elrond rested silent for a moment before sitting upright and meeting the king's gaze, placing a hand on the back of his neck and pulling him up until their lips met. Then Elrond slowly leaned back, bringing Gil-galad with him, until they both lay side by side once again, with Gil-galad slightly on top. "I just want to be close to you," Elrond murmured, his mouth half-covered by the older Elf's.
"There is close," Gil-galad whispered between kisses, "and there is close." He gazed down at Elrond's face, kissing the corner of his lips teasingly. "How close am I allowed to get, lovely child?"
Smiling faintly, Elrond moved his hand down over Gil-galad's chest and once again inside the king's leggings to his yet unfulfilled erection. This time there was no shyness or hesitation in the younger Elf's fingers.
"I want you to be as close as possible," said Elrond.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The wave of desire that broke over the king was sudden and fierce. He crushed his mouth against Elrond's, tongue begging, then demanding entrance, and for a long while there were only soft growls and deep, claiming kisses as Gil-galad pressed forward against the younger Elf's hand. Finally, he let out a soft groan and broke away, staring down at Elrond's mouth and teasing at it with his own.
"I want you," he said simply, panted breath coming fast and hard. "I want to be inside you... dreamed of being inside you, beautiful child..." He backed up to his knees and slowly untied the lacings at the front of his leggings, easing his shaft out and all the while watching Elrond's face.
Elrond kept eye contact; he was calm and curious and innocent. Slowly, he sat upright, and his gaze remained locked on Gil-galad's even as he slid the leggings off of his lover's hips. When he finally moved his eyes it was to look downward and press a light kiss to the soft skin above the king's bare thigh. He didn't speak.
"Get up, pretty child," the king said, holding that level gaze, "and go to the cabinet - the one to the left of the fire. There is a small bottle there, with a warming oil. It will make this more pleasurable..."
Silently, Elrond nodded, then got up off the bed and walked to the left cabinet. On the second shelf he found a small blue glass bottle with a silver stop; he took this in his hand and returned to Gil-galad, sitting as he had before, eyes staring into the king's. Then he handed Gil-galad the bottle.
"No, no - you keep it," the king said. "Open it up and pour some of the oil into your hand to warm it... then pour it on me - and rub it in." Watching Elrond's face, Gil-galad's lips curved in an amused smile and he sat back, dropping his legs open, giving the younger Elf better access. "How I've craved the touch of your fingers..."
Elrond's hand shook slightly as he unstopped the bottle and poured the oil onto his palm in a small clear pool. He curled his fingers in to smear it over his hand. Then he slowly reached down and took Gil-galad's cock in his hold. As he spread the oil with a few slow strokes, his mouth fell to Gil-galad's chest, and he pressed small licks and kisses to one nipple. The king gave a soft moan and raised one hand to Elrond's hair, tangling it a he pressed against those trembling fingers. Everywhere the Halfelven's kisses fell there was fire - fire on Gil-galad's skin, in his veins. Just the thought of the younger Elf's innocence and vulnerability was intoxicating. It would be so hard to stay in control...
When Gil-galad was slicked beneath his touch, Elrond lifted his hand and ran it softly over the king's skin from thigh to chest, leaving faint glistening trails with this fingertips. He offered the nipple one last lick before asking, "And what now?"
Gil-galad pulled him up for a long, deep kiss. "Mmm... now, my sweet one," he murmured, pushing Elrond gently down to the mattress, "*now* you lie back, relax, and do as I tell you to do... all right?" His voice was low and breathless and he stroked the younger Elf's flanks, encouraging him to open his legs. Elrond complied and his movements followed the lead of Gil-galad's hands. He lay back on the bed, thighs parted wide, eyes fixed on the king's.
"All right," he said quietly. Gil-galad took up the bottle of oil. Pressing Elrond's legs up and then back, he smiled as Elrond's tight little entrance was presented to him. Then he unstopped the vial and poured the warming oil directly onto that rosebud of skin, feeling his own erection twitch and the sight.
"Mmmm..." Elrond sighed as the liquid trickled over him. "It's still a bit cool," he said.
"Well, I'm sorry, young sir," Gil-galad murmured, positioning himself between Elrond's legs. "Forgive my egregious oversight. Perhaps I can warm it up a bit for you." So saying he pressed one finger against that tight place, rubbing it to work in the oil, a little deeper with each gentle press. Elrond smiled and sighed again, lifting his hips to push slightly against Gil-galad's finger. He tilted his head to look up at the ceiling before his eyes fell closed. Then his hands moved downward until they found the king's knees, and his fingernails scratched lightly over the skin.
Watching Elrond's reaction, Gil-galad couldn't help feeling a little light headed, especially when he looked down to where his finger invaded the younger Elf's body. It was such a wickedly erotic sight, but he knew of another that would be even more so...
After Elrond's body had accepted one finger, he slid in two, gently scissoring them to open him up. "Lovely boy... my earth and sky..." he murmured, curling back his fingers until he found that small nub of flesh he'd been seeking. He pressed against it, rubbing softly.
"Uhh..." A small moan escaped Elrond's throat. His nails stopped their movement to freeze in place and bite into Gil-galad's skin, and his eyes and jaw clenched tightly shut. "Nnnn..." Gil-galad smiled at the boy's reaction and kept rubbing, always soft, just enough to make him feel it. Bending forward, he trailed kisses along Elrond's shoulders and throat, stopping now and then to bite down softly and hold the younger Elf in place as his fingers worked magic.
"Now my sweet," he finally whispered, I'm going to take my fingers out and press against you." Another fervent kiss to the throat. "When I do that, I want you to push out against me... push hard, and just relax, all right?" He gave Elrond a last, lingering kiss on the mouth and slowly withdrew his fingers, positioning himself against the slippery entrance and pressing forward. "All right..." Elrond took a moment of breath before pushing against him, weakly at first but with increasing force until Gil-galad slowly slid inside. As he did, Elrond leaned his head back, as far as he could, and bit his lip to keep from crying out.
The king gave a long hiss of pleasure and bit down again lightly on Elrond's neck. He stayed perfectly still for several moments, breathing hot against the damp skin and feeling the younger Elf's body clench around him. "Relax," he murmured, his voice low and breathy. "Relax and let me fill you up - there's pleasure behind that pain... can you feel it?"
"Yes... I think... yes..." Elrond said. He ran his hands over Gil-galad's body, from waist to shoulders, sliding his palms over curves of muscles and winding his fingers through stray locks of sticking damp hair. "Just being so near to you is pleasure for me."
"As it is for me, dear one," Gil-galad purred, rocking just a bit inside of Elrond's body. "To have you close enough to smell... and taste... oh, and *this* close..." He sighed with pleasure and pushed a little further in. "Uhnnnn..." One of Elrond's hands came up to his neck, massaging and scratching lightly at his spine. while the other moved back down to rest at his waist.
"It seems unreal..." Elrond whispered, very quietly as if speaking to himself.
"Mmm... it's very real," the king murmured, leaning forward to nuzzle at Elrond's neck. "More real than anything I've felt in so long... and your body so wonderfully tight around me..." He pulled back a bit and gave a slow thrust forward, moaning softly.
Elrond too made a small sound, through clenched teeth, and he moved a bit with Gil-galad's body, rocking slightly. His hands pressed firm against the older Elf's skin, holding him close and then pulling him closer. Another slow thrust inwards and Gil-galad looked down into pleasure-hazed eyes of misty gray.
"You can feel this, Elrond," he murmured, voice nearly a whisper. "You know what this means... that I want you as mine and mine alone... now... and for all eternity." Another thrust, deeper still. "What say you to that, Elrond Peredhil?"
"I say..." said Elrond. "I say, my King Gil-galad, that I would be with you forever, that I would be yours, and only yours, forever, that I would stay at your side, or in your bed... I would belong to you entirely."
Gil-galad moaned, leaning over to nibble at Elrond's lips. The younger elf's words had sent fire through him - so perfectly submissive, playing to every need burning within the young king. Feeling Elrond there, beneath him, made him drunk with a heady mixture of pleasure and power. His thrusts quickened, driven faster by the very thought of what he was doing. "Ah... sweet boy... can't last..."
"Make it last a little longer..." whispered Elrond. He held Gil-galad so close, his fingers pressing red marks into pale skin. "I want to be close to you a little longer..."
Struggling to stay in control, Gil-galad held still for a moment, stroking Elrond's hip, his face pressed to the damp skin of the Halfelven's neck. The feeling, that tight heat around him, was almost too much and he whimpered softly with frustrated desire, wanting to plunge in and find that sweetest pleasure. "For you..." he panted, "I'd move the sun and stars for you..."
Elrond kissed the king's forehead. "I don't want the sun or stars," he said, "or any other thing of the sky." His lips slipped up to brush Gil-galad's hair. "I want only you, my Lord, my Gil-galad."
The king closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of soft lips. "You will be mine, yes?" he said softly, voice hesitant for the first time. "Don't fall in love with anyone else... promise me that."
"I could never," Elrond replied, smiling against Gil-galad's skin. "I could only ever love you." He squeezed his thighs together, pressing against Gil-galad's hips, while his arms snaked more firmly around the king's waist. "I have only ever loved you."
"Mmmm, but your years are few and your experience very limited," Gil-galad murmured, nuzzling again at the soft, damp skin beneath Elrond's ear. "Don't let your head be turned by any pretty maids or youths..."
"I could never..."
"I want your gaze and your kisses only for me..." Unable to help himself, Gil-galad gave another, long slow thrust. "Ahh, I love you..."
Elrond's fingers tickled across Gil-galad's skin as the two pulled closer together. "I love you..." Elrond returned in whisper, and he closed his eyes. "...love you, my Gil-galad..."
"Can't get... close enough," the king panted, now trailing his tongue along Elrond's jaw, a slow, heated rhythm beginning to build. "Sweet, *sweet,* boy..." He was almost cooing the words, his hands suddenly everywhere on the younger Elf's body - over firm shoulders and smooth chest, squeezing soft buttocks and pressing up against trembling, tired thighs. Elrond silently pressed back against him, moving with the building intensity of his body. "Don't make me wait, my love... I've already waited so long..."
"Don't wait," said Elrond He dipped his head for a kiss but caught only the edge of Gil-galad's upper lip as it moved across his mouth. Then he kissed Gil-galad again, on his cheek, lips lingering hungrily on the skin. The king gave a soft groan and pressed his mouth to Elrond's. His hips began to move, slowly at first, in a sweet and ancient rhythm, an act almost reverential in its perfection. His breath quickened and he broke away from the kiss, burying his face in the dark silk of Elrond's hair.
"Ohhh... my boy... my love..."
"Mmmnn..." Elrond turned toward Gil-galad so that his own face touched the king's hair and a few strands stuck to his moistened lips. He reached up to brush these away, and then others, until his fingers and then his mouth found Gil-galad's ear. Slowly, he ran the tip of his tongue from lobe to point, outside and then in, then biting down softly as Gil-galad's movements became more heated and insistent. A soft shiver ran through the king and he pressed in harder, beginning to growl softly.
The world outside of their embrace had dropped away entirely and now it had distilled down to heat within heat, sweet friction taking away all thought, all desire but the urge to thrust and possess. "Oh, love," Gil-galad whispered, nearly breathless. "I'm gone..."
Release broke over him like a river of fire and he gave a long, sharp cry, thrust in as far as he could go, but still wanting more of the Halfelven's body. His head was thrown back, his eyes closed in bliss.
"Look at me." Elrond lifted a hand to gently cup Gil-galad's cheek as his body tensed. Beneath him, Elrond's body started to relax, though the younger Elf was still breathing heavily. "Look at me..." Elrond repeated, and his fingers moved across the king's cheek to his hair and then along his jaw.
Slowly, Gil-galad dropped his head. Long dark lashes fluttered and he gazed down at Elrond with grey eyes half lidded. "You..." he murmured, voice breathy. "I see you always, sweet child. Even if my eyes were torn from me, still I would see you... just as you are now, innocence all untucked." He leaned forward with slow grace and pressed his mouth to Elrond's. "But what of *your* pleasure? It's hardly fair if I have all and you have none."
Elrond smiled and wrapped his arms about Gil-galad's neck. "My pleasure is to be with you," he said, "and here I am, and here you are..." He ran the tip of his tongue over Gil-galad's lips before resolving the contact with a deep sweet kiss. Then their two bodies separated as they shifted to rest once again side by side, though now Elrond lay slightly on top of Gil-galad, his head resting on the king's shoulder.
"I would do more for you," Gil-galad rumbled comfortably against Elrond's neck.
With tickling breath in the older Elf's ear, Elrond whispered, "What else would you do for me, my High King Gil-galad?"
That drew a soft growl from the king, who tightened his hold around Elrond and said in a husky voice, "Give you pleasure until I drained you dry... make the stones of these halls ring with your moans... have you begging me for more until you couldn't speak... All that. That's what I would do for you, sweet child..." He grazed his lips along the line of Elrond's jaw before settling down alongside him. "Since it *is* your first time, however, I'll let you rest up a bit." A slow smile lit his face and he winked.
Elrond grinned. "I suppose that's best," he said. "The others in this house might not too forgiving of the noise..." He laughed aloud and tipped his face to kiss Gil-galad on the cheek. "Glorfindel would have words with both of us, I think." He kissed Gil-galad again, more softly, and then again, but closer to the king's mouth. "He would probably have words with me now just for being here with you like this..."
The king growled again and kissed Elrond, his mouth hungry and insistent. "Yes," he murmured, "I'm sure Glorfindel would have quite a few words..." His fingers curled around silky dark hair, stroking it roughly. "But, he'll have to realize that it's past time for you to grow up and make decisions for yourself. He's too protective."
"I know..." said Elrond, and he sighed, pressing closer to Gil-galad. "He does worry about me all the time." Then he smirked. "But so do you..."
Gil-galad was smirking back at him when a sharp rap at the door made him look up and curse. "Damn, who's that?" he muttered. He looked back at Elrond. "Get at least some of your clothes on," he said, standing and pulling up his leggings, sliding a robe over his shoulders. "Come in," he barked unhappily.
In panic, Elrond was able to pull his own leggings halfway on before scrambling off the bed to crouch on the floor beneath a fallen sheet, unable to be seen from the doorway. As he did the door opened, and Glorfindel stepped inside, holding a collection of papers.
"Do you have a moment, my lord?" he asked. "Because I've finished with the inventory, though there are a few small discrepancies between the original list you gave me and what I was able to assess, and I'm wondering if you want to look over the papers and see if you can explain a few points. Here, in particular..." He started toward Gil-galad, paper marked with his thumb, but stopped after a few steps, looking first at the king's tangled hair and flushed skin, then at the twisted blankets. He opened his mouth as if to speak again, but said nothing.
"If *I* need to explain a few points?" the king growled. "I hardly think that would be necessary." He tied his robe with a soft belt and stared hard at the golden-haired Elf. "You're the one who's job it is to sort all this out." he continued, trying to keep the resentment out of his voice and only partially succeeding. "I lead the people and the army - you keep track of the stores. If something's gone missing I expect you and the guards to find out why. Now - is there anything else?"
Glorfindel narrowed his eyes and thinned his lips. He did not speak, but steadily held Gil-galad's tense gaze for several seconds. "I suppose not," he finally said. "I'll have Amaril look over the figures, then, if you're too... busy." He glanced down at the floor near the fire where Elrond's shirt still lay, then back at Gil-galad. "You've evidently been very busy this evening already."
The king's eyes flashed. "And just what business is it of yours what I do in my own chambers? It's not my place to judge your personal life and it's certainly not yours to comment on mine."
"Naro seldo;" Glorfindel hissed, "manen veryalyë carë sina ron?! Nas raica!"*
"Naro linyenwë fareavë ista mana meriro!" Gil-galad retorted. "Ar umiro er seldo, Laurefindel; manan mericcë nai naro tennoio?" He fell silent for a moment, almost panting, and then added with quiet anger, "Manan umeccë queta ron ar cena mana meriro?"** But Glorfindel made no reply. He stood in silence for a moment longer, fighting Gil-galad's harsh gaze with his own, before quickly turning and leaving the room. The door closed sharply behind him.
After a few tense seconds Elrond stood from his hiding place. His fists were clenched white and his shoulders were shaking. "What did he say?"
"Nothing you should concern yourself about," Gil-galad answered tersely, then stopped and turned to Elrond. "Look at you, half-dressed and red cheeked. I could take you all over again..." He smiled devilishly and kissed the boy. "But I won't. It's nearly time for supper and you need a bath."
Elrond knelt on the bed and leaned against Gil-galad, wrapping his arms around the king's waist. "I'm not hungry," he said. "I'd rather stay here with you." He pressed a soft kiss to Gil-galad's shoulder. "Let me stay..."
"Your over-scrupulous caretaker is already in high dudgeon over the time we've spent together. If neither one of us showed up to dinner he'd be beside himself - and if there's anything I don't need it's Glorfindel having a fit." He turned and wound both arms around Elrond, kissing his throat. "I will, however, let you use my bath..."
Elrond walked to his own bedroom alone after supper, having taken care to remain innocently at Glorfindel's side for a time after Gil-galad left the table. The corridors were dark, and the room as well; no fire had been lit, nor candles. The only light was pale and cold, shining from the moon through the windows. Elrond stood there a moment and looked over the bed and the floor and the hearth, all shadowed and dead in the night's silence. He touched his cheek, which still smelled of Gil-galad's perfume. And silently slipped into his bed, alone.
Several rooms away, Gil-galad stood on his small balcony overlooking the Gulf. In the starlight, he could see Círdan's ships at anchor across the water. The thought of his old lover made the need for his new one all the more acute, and he tightened his hand on the railing, aching as he hadn't in years. "You will be mine, lovely boy," he whispered to the night. "Together we will do great things."
*"He is a child! How dare you do this to him? It is wrong!"
** "He's old enough to know what he wants! And he's no mere child, Glorfindel; why do you wish he be forever? Why don't you speak to him and see what he wants?"
* End *
back to Strange Fates