Title & Chapter Number: Fate's Mirror 4/?
Author(s): - Author's Index
Website:
Fandom: Tolkien
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: do not own these characters, they are the property of Tolkien, and I am sure he would be horrified if he read this…
Warnings: This story is rated NC-17 and contains male slash pairings and explicit sexual content. If you find this offensive, or you are under-age, I strongly suggest you stop now.
Betas: Larian Elensar
Cast: Erestor, Glorfindel, Gildor, Thranduil
Timeline: SA
Spoilers: None
Summary: Set during the second half of the second age. Reincarnated Glorfindel returns to Lindon from the Halls of Mandos to pledge his service to the High King.
Notes:
April, 1693, Second Age, Lindon
Thranduil rose from the bed and picked up his tunic, looking at it with distaste. It was stained with the blood of orcs and elves and ruined beyond repair. He pulled on his leggings and boots and gathered the nightshirt up around his waist, tucking in what he could and tying the rest off in a knot at his waist. He was more than happy to leave it on, as it still smelled of his new friend. He crossed the room to the bureau and looked at himself in the mirror; his hair was disheveled and his braids were mussed, and a bruise was fading along his jaw from the battle two days before. As he took down his braids, he caught sight of a folded piece of parchment on the bureau with the name Gildor scribed on it. He picked it up and opened it, reading the contents; a note thanking said Gildor for his hospitality. He smiled as he saw the signature at the bottom. "Glorfindel…" he whispered. "Golden tress. Of course, a perfect name for so perfect a beauty," he whispered quietly, his fingers tracing over the script. He placed the note back where he found it, and quickly rebraided his hair as best he could without the proper tools to work with. He left Gildor's quarters and returned to the infirmary.
~*~*~*~
"Where is the Prince?" Erestor asked with some incredulity.
Amras and his followers had been frantically searching for Thranduil since they found him missing from the infirmary just past the midnight hour. "I do not know, my Lord. We have been searching for him all night." Amras answered, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He thought to himself that Thranduil would be the death of him before it was over; he always dreaded being assigned to the Prince's person, it was a near impossible job to perform well.
Gildor shook his head in disbelief. "Well, we know he has not left the compound, not unless he possesses the magic needed to become invisible." He looked at the Captain. "How could you lose track of him? You were just outside the door?"
Amras flushed again and looked at the floor. "The Prince is crafty, my Lord, and does not take well to following orders. Once he has made up his mind on something, he is not easily swayed. He is very independent."
Erestor sighed. "Sounds like his father." He looked around the room before continuing, "Where would he have gone? Did he say anything to anyone?"
Gildor shook his head. "Nay, my Lord. We have questioned the healing staff, and none had spoken with him nor did they see him leave."
"I suppose they would not have, as I am trained to go without being seen."
The three elves turned around quickly to see the Prince standing in the doorway to the infirmary.
Amras bowed low. "Your majesty, we have been urgently seeking you throughout the palace."
Thranduil regarded his captain with some measure of impatience. "Yes, so I have heard. Interesting that I was able to walk in here without so much as a word from anyone." He turned his gaze to Erestor, who bowed his head. "Are you the one I should speak with to gain audience with the High King?"
Erestor nodded. "Yes, my Lord. I am Erestor, Chief Counselor and aide to the King's Standard Bearer, Lord Elrond."
Thranduil raised an eyebrow and cocked his head. "Do you consider it proper for me to go through such channels? I am not a commoner, Erestor."
Erestor took a deep, silent breath and answered. "I am well aware of that, my Lord. However, I am the first point of contact for the King, for commoners and royals alike."
Thranduil smirked; he liked the Counselor's fortitude. "Very well then, I am requesting an audience with the High King, Gil-galad. As you have obviously surmised, I am Thranduil Oropherion, Prince of the realm of Greenwood the Great."
Erestor nodded. "Very well, my Lord. I will bring your request to his majesty's attention immediately. In the meantime, my second, Lord Gildor, and I would like to express our condolences on your mother's passing, and offer any assistance we may in seeing your party safely returned to your home."
Thranduil bowed his head and placed his hand over his heart. "My thanks to you and your people for the valiant efforts they made in trying to save my mother, and for your hospitality and protection."
Gildor stepped forward, bowing his head and placing his hand over his heart. "I am Gildor, my Lord. If I may be so bold, how did you leave escape the infirmary?"
Thranduil looked the elf over before answering, "Escape? Was I under arrest?"
Gildor shook his head. "No, of course not, my Lord. However, you were wounded and had just suffered a great loss. We were concerned about your safety and well being."
Thranduil raised and eyebrow. "I see. Well, let me assure you, Lord Gildor, that I am very capable of taking care of myself. To answer your question, I climbed into a laundry cart and waited until it was left unattended in the hallway. I then crept out and made my way toward what I thought, in my weary state, was the door to the palace. However, I became lost and a friend found me and took care of me." He smiled to himself as he recalled the warrior's kiss.
Gildor and Erestor looked at each other with surprised expressions then turned back to the Prince. Erestor answered, "Did you happen to get this friend's name?"
Thranduil shook his head. "I am afraid not, I was so weary that I did not ask. When I awoke this morning I was alone."
Erestor furrowed his brow. "Well, we are relieved to find your majesty safe and rested. I will arrange for proper quarters for you this evening. Please, if you will follow me, I will see your party fed and quarters prepared."
Thranduil nodded. "Thank you, my Lord." He placed a hand upon Erestor's shoulder. "Would it be possible to see the training grounds and have a tour of your barracks today? I find myself most at home with other soldiers."
Erestor frowned slightly. "Why of course, my Lord. If you wish."
Thranduil and party followed Erestor from the infirmary toward the guest wing of the palace.
~*~*~*~
It was sometime past the midday hour when Glorfindel left the archery range and returned to his bunk. He arrived to find his gear packed up and sitting at the edge of his bed. He frowned and looked around him and saw Gildor enter the room.
"Ah, mae govannen, mellonamin." Gildor smiled as he approached the warrior.
Glorfindel looked from the bunk to his friend and back again. "Am I being dismissed so soon?"
Gildor chuckled. "Nay, Glorfindel. You are being promoted."
Glorfindel laughed heartily. "After my superior performance yesterday afternoon?"
Gildor smiled. "Erestor thinks he can make better use of your talents leading and training a regiment. You are to partner with him on matters of training and military strategy. We have arranged for more fitting quarters, near his. I took the liberty of packing your things so we could move you as soon as possible."
Glorfindel nodded and looked at the ground. "He thinks I am a weakness on the field. I suppose I cannot disagree. Well, I do know something of tactics and training, I could be of some use in this area." He turned to Gildor. "Lead on, mellonamin."
He followed Gildor to his new living quarters.
~*~*~*~
"Where is he now?" Elrond asked his Counselor.
"He is taking a tour of the training grounds with Gildor. He is scheduled to meet with the High King just before the dinner hour."
Elrond shook his head. "When will his party be prepared to return to Greenwood?"
Erestor sighed. "Several are wounded and will need several days to recover enough to travel. They will need an escort, my Lord. There are too few of them to fight off another attack should one happen. The Prince is a target for murder or abduction."
Elrond nodded. "Aye, such is the lot of one born to royal blood. The Dark Lord is preparing to make war. I sense a black cloud on the horizon, I fear we will all be in peril soon." He rose from his chair and walked to the window. "Any word from Celebrimbor?"
Erestor shook his head. "Nay, my Lord, not yet."
Elrond turned and looked at Erestor. "I would speak with the Prince before he meets with the King. He may be able to provide us some information on goings on in the east; the realm of Rhovanion is closest to the Dark Lord's evil. Tell him I request an audience."
Erestor bowed. "Yes, my Lord, right away." He turned and left to seek out the Prince.
~*~*~*~
Glorfindel strode down the hall, returning to his new quarters from his second shift of duty when a pair of hands covered his eyes from behind. He stopped in his tracks and furrowed his brow, trying to discern who would do this to him. A smile played about his lips when the answer came and he heard a soft, hushed voice in his ear.
"I hear tell you have new quarters. I would like to see them…"
He gently removed the hands from his eyes and turned to see his lovely young admirer. "Mae govannen, Amras. You look well this afternoon."
His young friend smiled at him. "Well, it is your doing. I am so overtaken with joy by the mere sight of you that I can barely contain my excitement."
Glorfindel chuckled. "Is that so?"
Thranduil leaned in close. "It is so. I would show you just how happy I am to see you, if you would show me to your quarters."
Glorfindel's breath hitched in his chest and he felt that familiar heat flare in his core again. "Right this way, mellonamin." He took his young friend by the hand and led him to his chamber.
He held the door open for the young elf and thought to himself, **my chance to do all I had not done before…** He closed the door behind him and looked at the young beauty who stood by the bed. He watched his long archer's fingers trace the coverlet and gazed upon the curve of a muscular shoulder that peeked out from the overlarge nightshirt he still wore. He slowly walked toward him, his heart pounding in his chest, a slow, steady throbbing building in his loins. He reached out and caressed the curve of that shoulder, and watched his head fall back and his eyes close. He pressed his mouth to it and shivered at the delicious sigh that escaped his lovely friend's lips.
"Mmm… you taste sweet, lirimaer." He crooned.
His friend sighed as he turned in his grasp, guiding the warrior's lips to his own. "As do you, malthen maethor."
He covered the Thranduil's lips with his own, pressing a hungry and burning kiss to them. He moaned into the kiss as he felt his new lover unbutton his tunic and his hands slide inside, over his long ignored skin. He was afire with want, his hands running down the youth's long back and over the swell of his perfect backside. He kneaded the muscles in his hands as he clasped him tighter still, plundering the Prince's mouth with his tongue. They broke from their kiss; both aroused beyond reason. His fingers traced over the swollen lips of the Sinda as he stared into eyes the color of the midnight sky. "You are beautiful, pen neth (young one)," he whispered.
"No more than you, Glorfindel." Thranduil replied.
The warrior furrowed his brow and whispered, "I do not recall telling you my name. How do you come to know it?"
The Prince smiled. "I am wise as well as beautiful. Discovering your name was easy enough, you left a note on the bureau of Lord Gildor's room, upon it was your signature."
Glorfindel smiled in return. "Ah, crafty as well as beautiful and wise. How did I come to be so lucky?"
Thranduil nipped his bottom lip before continuing, "Perhaps you have earned it from deeds done in the past?" The warrior's expression sobered and his grip on him loosened. "What is it, my beauty? Did I say something wrong?"
Glorfindel smiled again and caressed his face. "No, lirimaer, you did not, I am fine." His hands drifted to his waist. "Come, let us take off this nightshirt… you have worn it long enough."
Thranduil sighed as he felt the shirt slide over his head and off his arms, and purred at the sensation of the warrior's warm hands on his bare skin. "By Elbereth, you feel so good, Glorfindel," he whispered.
Glorfindel playfully growled, "No better than you taste, mir nín (my treasure)."
Thranduil's fingers sought the tie to the warrior's leggings and tugged it loose, earning him an appreciative growl from the warrior as the string popped free. He slid his hands beneath the soft cotton and over the warm flesh covering his buttocks. He could feel his own arousal beginning to throb as he explored the warrior's body, his hands caressing every curve. He moaned as he felt his own leggings slide past his hips and his length spring free. Glorfindel's wicked mouth moved to his ear and he moaned wantonly, struggling to kick his boots off and break free of his leggings.
"Aniron lle, hir nín (I want you, my Lord)," he whispered.
Glorfindel assaulted his lover's ear with his mouth, as he clasped the youth tighter, desperate to feel his flesh next to his own. "And you shall have me, my beauty," he whispered raggedly. He guided his lover to the bed and flung his unbuttoned tunic to the floor before kicking off his boots and peeling off his leggings.
Thranduil purred in delight as the warrior's sculpted body was revealed to him, and he thought he had never seen one so beautiful in his life. He held his arms wide as his lover crawled across the bed to him and lowered himself upon him. He wrapped his arms around Glorfindel as he again tasted the warrior's heated kiss and arched against him.
Glorfindel shivered as his lover's fingers traced the scar along his side, the Prince's brow furrowed as he looked upon it.
"Does it still hurt?" Thranduil asked.
"From time to time," he answered.
"I will make it stop," his lover whispered softly.
He moaned desperately as Thranduil's lips caressed the length of the scar, and tears fell from his eyes as the gentle beauty placed soft kisses along its length.
Thranduil looked up at his lover's glistening eyes and whispered, "Is that better?"
Glorfindel looked down at him. "Yes, a'maelamin, so very much." He reached for him and drew those soft lips back up to his own, pressing a long, slow, passionate kiss to him.
They grappled with one another, hands and mouths questing, exploring, and teasing. Not one inch of the bed was left untouched as they rolled over one another, driving one another on to what seemed impossible heights of desire. Thranduil groaned as the warrior took him in his mouth, relentlessly sucking him, consuming him as he tangled his fingers in the warrior's golden mane. He whimpered as the warrior's mouth left his over-heated arousal and his warm, wet tongue lapped at the soft skin that lay beneath. He cried out and arched again as Glorfindel's tongue breached his body, probing, slicking, testing his virgin entrance.
As a Prince, it would not be proper to let anyone beneath his station use him thusly, or so he had been taught. So he had never allowed another to touch him like this, never allowed another to take him as this warrior prepared to do. But, as a soldier, he could allow it, and as the young soldier he pretended to be, he would be expected to permit one of Glorfindel's stature to be the dominant partner. It was unknown ground he walked upon now, and he found the mixture of excitement and apprehension more arousing than he would have imagined.
As the warrior snaked his way back up his body, Thranduil trembled with both desire and fear. He placed his hands on his lover's face and drew him into a kiss, tangling his fingers in his hair as he yielded to the warrior and gave him dominion over his body. Glorfindel rose just long enough to fumble through his pack and retrieve a vial of massage oil before returning to the bed and kneeling above his lover. He spread the oil over his rigid arousal with one hand and slowly reached between the Prince's legs, sliding one finger inside him.
Thranduil cried out and arched against the bed, wadding the coverlet in his fists as he tried to accept the strange intrusion. The slight burning he felt began to fade and he relaxed, only to have it return as a second finger was added; this time the burning was more intense but he forced himself to relax again and was able to accept it.
Glorfindel slowly rotated his fingers, scissoring, stretching, and spreading the oil deep inside his lover. He removed his fingers and placed his arousal at the Prince's entrance, he looked into his eyes and whispered, "Are you ready for me, mir nín (my treasure)?"
Thranduil nodded and took a deep breath and let it out, silently telling himself to relax. He cried out as the warrior entered his body and he felt tears begin to prick at the back of his eyes. He was being stretched beyond what he ever imagined he could bear, the burning was intense and he felt his muscles clench tight around the rigid length that impaled his body.
The minute Glorfindel sheathed himself completely in the Prince's body he knew he was the first to have done so. He remained perfectly still and waited for his lover to accept him. He berated himself for not seeing this was the youth's first time, and for not handling him more carefully. He closed his eyes and lowered his face to his lover, his hands stroking Thranduil's flushed cheeks. "Sshh, a'maelamin. Just relax and breathe, I promise you, it will feel better."
Thranduil nodded and ran his trembling hands into the warrior's hair. "Kiss me, Glorfindel, "he whispered.
Glorfindel slowly and lovingly kissed his young beauty, his tongue gently questing inside Thranduil's sweet mouth, slowly caressing his lover's tongue with his own. He heard the Prince moan into the kiss and felt him begin to shift beneath him, and he withdrew a small amount and pressed back in, testing to see if his lover was ready. The Prince moaned again and moved beneath him and he withdrew a little more before delving back in. He trembled as he felt his lover's body mercilessly squeeze him; his delicious velvet heat was utterly addicting. Slowly but surely he began to thrust in and withdraw as one hand slid down the Prince's stomach and took his arousal, slowly pumping it in time with his thrusts. He heard Thranduil moan plaintively in his ear and he increased his motion on his arousal and angled his hips. He smiled against his lover's ear as he felt him arch against him and heard him cry out into his hair.
Thranduil's fingers dug into the warrior's back as a sensation unlike anything he had that he ever felt before roared through his body. "Again… more…" he whispered breathlessly.
The warrior flexed his hips and angled for his target with each thrust, his lover's cries driving him onward. He groaned as Thranduil found his release, and he spilled himself inside his tightening body. He nearly collapsed upon his lover and felt his trembling hands draw slow circles upon his back; his fingers sliding through the sweat that slicked his skin. He reveled in the warm afterglow of his spent passion, in the warmth of his lover's body, in the comfort of his loving embrace. "Thank you, mellonamin," he whispered into the Prince's ear.
Thranduil stroked his hair and hugged him tight. "Do not ever leave me, Glorfindel. I want to feel this way, always," he whispered.
As the warrior slipped from Thranduil's body, he rolled to the side, drawing his lover with him into an embrace. Thranduil snuggled close to him, basking in the warmth and comfort of Glorfindel's embrace.
~*~*~*~
After a short nap, Thranduil quietly extracated himself from Glorfindel's arms and dressed. He silently left the warrior's chamber, taking care to ensure he was not seen before returning to his own to bathe and change for his meeting with the King.
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