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fimbrethielTitle: Winner Takes All (4/6)
Series: Games of Love - Part I
Author: Fimbrethiel
LiveJournal: http://www.livejournal.com/users/fimbrethiel/
Email: fimbrethiel @ yahoo.com
Type: FPS
Pairings/Characters: Elladan/Elrohir/Glorfindel, Glorfindel/Erestor, Estel
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: explicit depictions of homoerotic acts between consenting males, twincest, 3-way, voyeurism, masturbation. Mostly PWP, a wee bit of story
Disclaimer: Don’t own the Elves, they are owned by Tolkien’s estate. Master Tolkien, I mean no harm. No profit has been made.
Betas: Helena, Donna, NimrodelJen, Orchyd Constyne (various chapters)
Original date of completion: June 8, 2004 (revised January 2015)
Summary: During a game of cards, the sons of Elrond decide to make a private wager, and the Golden One will be the prize. They have a witness, who will soon meet someone who will change his life.
Italics not used for simple emphasis denote mindspeak
*~*~*~*~*
If you want to kiss the sky you better learn how to kneel.
On your knees, boy…
U2
*~*~*~*~*
Glorfindel deposited Estel in his chamber, assisting the woozy young man in removing his boots and tunic before settling him among the blankets and fluffy pillows on his bed. He chuckled softly as Estel snuggled into the comfort of his bed and immediately fell into an alcohol-induced slumber. Glorfindel fondly brushed a lock of dark hair off Estel’s forehead, ruminating briefly how young, yet noble, he looked. This one is destined for great things, he thought, knowing his predictions were uncanny in their accuracy. Something about having died did that to someone, he surmised.
The hallways were dimly lit that time of night, most of the inhabitants of Imladris having already gone to bed. Glorfindel trod lightly, his footsteps soft and unhurried, making only the barest whisper on the tiled floor. He took his time as he pondered the happenings in the twins’ rooms.
At the first brush of a foot against his, Glorfindel had thought it was an inadvertent misplacement of a limb, the simple matter of legs far too long under a table much too small. The second, though, there was no mistaking it. For Elladan’s sake, Glorfindel assumed a façade of ignorance, giving himself time to assess the situation.
Glorfindel, being an honorable Elf, would never breach another’s thoughts without permission. However, being ancient among the Eldar, he could sense the moods and general feelings of others without actually entering their minds. What he gleaned from reading the emotions of the Peredhil took him by surprise. His initial thought was of shock, which eventually gave way to amazement and intrigue.
The twins were stunning creatures. Standing only a fraction less in stature than Glorfindel himself, they were slim, clean-limbed and long of arm and leg. The brethren possessed the slightly darker-hued skin tone of their father's Edain ancestry. The dark locks and piercing gray eyes of their father were enhanced by Celebrían’s bequest of grace and beauty, adding to their exotic looks. The twins were as different as Anor and Ithil in temperament, yet complemented each other perfectly. The Noldor blood of their forbearers, combined with that of Melian, most beautiful of Maiar, ensured that the Half-elven twins of Imladris were fair of face beyond measure of Men and Elves.
Glorfindel reached the door to the twins’ suite and paused for another moment before entering.
Elladan was intent on seduction. And where Elladan was involved, so was Elrohir, as well. Elladan was always the instigator; he had been since the twins were small, somehow convincing his younger brother to go along with his plans. Glorfindel wondered how far the brethren would carry this game of seduction, and decided then to play along with them and see just how far they would go.
*~*~*~*~*
He knocked lightly on the door to let the twins know he had returned. Scurrying and rustling ensued, before a voice finally answered. “Glorfindel? Enter.”
To outward appearances, nothing had changed. The gaming table was laid as it had been when he left; his cards lay untouched before his seat. The candlelight still illuminated the chamber with a soft glow. Yet, something was different. The twins looked just a bit rumpled, their skin flushed. Elladan had a look of satisfied amusement on his flushed face, while Elrohir appeared to be shaky and having difficulty catching his breath. Glorfindel detected a slightly musky undercurrent mingling with the fresh outdoor scent in the air. Those two just cannot keep their hands off each other, he thought wryly as he recognized the smell of sex.
With a determined look of nonchalance on his face, Glorfindel returned to the seat he had vacated earlier. Now that they have had their little bit of fun, let us see in what manner they will continue this farce, he thought, gathering his cards. Beginning to shuffle, he met Elrohir's eye across the table and gave him a knowing wink. He was most amused to see Elrohir blush.
*~*~*~*~*
After the first few moments of boozy slumber, Estel woke with a headache pulsing queasily behind his temples. His heart raced, and he felt restless, tangled and stifled by the bed coverings. It was a common happening when he imbibed the rich Elven wine that was an Imladris favorite; after the initial intoxication, he found himself plagued with insomnia. With a wry smile, he recalled Glorfindel’s words. It was true; he had lived among the Elves for his entire life and did sometimes forget he was not of their kind. It was not his habit to overindulge in this manner, but Glorfindel was correct. It had been an emotional day, and the wine had gone straight to his head. It was not every day that one learned he was a descendant of the line of Elros and rightful heir to the throne of Gondor.
He rose unsteadily from his bed and lit a taper on the table. Clutching the candle precariously in one hand, he staggered to his private bathing chamber to relieve himself. He rummaged through a drawer, searching for Elrond’s special 'morning after' mix and found just enough of the liquid in the elusive bottle for one last dose.
Returning to his bedchamber, he noted with amusement that his tunic was strewn on the chair beside the bed and his boots dropped haphazardly next to it. Glorfindel was widely lauded for many things; neatness was not one of them.
Stripping off his leggings, he shrugged on a thin night robe over his nakedness and poured himself a goblet of water. Goblet in one hand, candle in the other, he stepped outside to the wide porch and into the warm night air to wait for Elrond’s hangover cure to take effect. How he envied the Elves and their ability to imbibe without lasting effects!
The family wing of the Last Homely House was arranged in a rough L-shape. Immediate family occupied the quarters on the first level. The twins, who had never been separated since birth, shared the largest suite, one that had been specially designed by joining two smaller chambers around a central common area and private bathing room. The upper echelon in Elrond’s employ, primarily Glorfindel, Erestor, and Lindir, along with a few of the higher-ranking members of Elrond’s counsel, were housed on the second floor. Elrond’s own quarters occupied most of the third level and had an almost panoramic view of the breathtaking vistas and waterfalls of the beautiful valley and the Misty Mountains.
Estel seated himself in one of the comfortable chairs placed strategically around the porch and stretched his long legs out in front of him. He placed the goblet on the ground near his chair and blew out the candle, allowing the darkness to soothe the dull thumping in his head. He leaned his head back against the chair and closed his eyes, waiting for the potion to take effect and calm the jittery feeling that inevitably came with overindulgence. The night sounds – crickets chirping idyllically, owls mournfully hooting, and the rustle of nocturnal creatures foraging among the shrubberies – lulled him again into light slumber.
He woke with a start a while later and realized he was still outside. Ithil had traced a path across the sky and he reckoned he had been dozing for over an hour, but no more than two. He stretched and groaned, rubbing the stiffness from his neck. It was as he looked about him in the moonlight to gather his belongings that he noticed light coming from the twins’ room, adjacent and around the corner to his own. What he saw took his breath away, any thought of his lingering headache driven out of his mind.
*~*~*~*~*
More wine, more cards, more forward brushes of feet. A firm calf pressed against his, fingers lingered against a hand, a friendly touch to an arm held just a tiny bit longer than propriety dictated. Sly winks and lascivious licking of lips. A gaze held, gray eyes to blue, a moment longer than necessary.
The time for tact and diplomacy had long past. Those traits were better suited for Elrond’s counselor, anyway; Glorfindel’s way was more direct. What had begun as a seemingly, if not innocent, but simple game of flirtation had raged into a full-blown assault of seduction, and it ended now. Glorfindel was not a diplomat, he was a man of action, and he wanted answers.
He laid his cards face down and took a fortifying sip of his wine. “Elladan, what - ” Now that he had laid his cards on the table, so to speak, he found himself at a loss, and settled for simplicity. “Why?”
To Glorfindel’s surprise, it was Elrohir who groaned and slumped forward in his seat, burying his beautiful face in his hands. “I told you this would happen, El."
Elladan rose from his seat and rounded the table, kneeling on the floor next to his brother, and enfolded him in his arms. He rested his cheek against Elrohir's chest and softly stroked his hair. “Hush, beloved. This is my fault, not yours.”
Elrohir raised his head and wrapped his arms around his brother. “Nay, tôren, you are not to blame, I could have refused.” He bestowed a soft kiss on Elladan's forehead while Glorfindel looked on uncertainly. “I cannot go on with this charade. It was reprehensible and self-indulgent, and I will apologize.”
Elrohir gently extricated himself from the circle of his brother’s arms and rose to his feet, coming before Glorfindel and dropping to his knees. Glorfindel turned in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting with his head tilted questioningly to the side. This turn of events had him puzzled.
“I have wronged you, my lord,” Elrohir said formally, bowing his head. His face flushed crimson in embarrassment.
Glorfindel reached out with one large hand and gently tipped Elrohir’s chin up. “How did you wrong me, beautiful one? A few moments ago, your brother was engaged in a harmless game of flirtation. I am not so naïve as to be caught unawares of his ruse.” He paused, his hand dropping to Elrohir’s shoulder and rubbing gently. He caressed the ebony locks flowing over the strong shoulder before gently tucking a loose strand behind Elrohir’s ear.
Elladan dropped to his knees beside his brother. He wrapped one arm lovingly about his twin's waist and placed the other hand on Glorfindel’s knee before meeting the captain's piercing blue eyes. “I am the one at fault, Glorfindel. I cannot allow my brother to be held responsible for this charade.”
“Nay, it was I," Elrohir interrupted. "I saw you in the library, Glorfindel. Years ago. You and Erestor. You were - involved.”
Glorfindel’s eyes opened wide in surprise. His friendship with the raven-haired Chief Counselor had been deep and abiding for years beyond count, and the line between friend and lover was occasionally blurred. They were not exclusive, nor were they in love, but occasionally took comfort with each other. Most of their infrequent encounters took place in the privacy of their respective quarters. The tryst in the library, though, was one he remembered vividly and with fond memories. Erestor had surprised and delighted him with his ferocity that night. In truth, Glorfindel had surprised himself by yielding so enthusiastically.
Elrohir rushed on before he lost his nerve. “It was late, and I was returning to my room when I saw the library still brightly lit. I feared the servants had left the candles alight, and when I reached the door I saw the two of you through a crack in the draperies. I should not have watched, yet I stayed.” The blush suffusing his face darkened, and he hung his head in shame at his next words. “I wanted you then; I have wanted you since. I did not know how to approach you, for fear you would ridicule my desire as the infatuation of a child for his elder.”
Elladan softly stroked his brother’s back. “He came to me that night, and I knew then the depth of his passion for you. Tonight I saw an opportunity to give him what he has longed for. I suggested a wager: if he were to best us tonight, I would assist him in seducing you. If I were to win, he would be my slave for the night. It was not his fault, Glorfindel. Forgive me.”
“So, you sought to entrap me in a web of lies and deceit? Did you think me so ancient and decrepit that I would be unable to see through your ploy?" Glorfindel asked, his voice coming sharper than he intended. "Did you take me for a fool?”
Identical gray eyes lifted in horror, widening in fear and disbelief when they met the piercing sapphire gaze that bored into theirs. Glorfindel cupped a strong hand to the cheeks of the two who knelt before him, brushing the rough pad of each thumb over proud cheekbones.
Softening his tone, he looked from one exquisite face to the other, faces he held dear to his heart. “Did you think me so heartless as to ridicule your desires?” He slowly rose to his feet, bringing the two kneeling before him to stand. His hands roamed slowly across their backs with the barest touch, lifting inky silken strands of hair and allowing them to side sensuously through his fingers. An absolute delight, these two, he mused. Do they truly think me so immune to their charms?
“Oh my beautiful fools, did either of you think to simply ask?”
~*~*~ to be continued… ~*~*~
tôren = my brother (Sindarin)
Series: Games of Love - Part I
Author: Fimbrethiel
LiveJournal: http://www.livejournal.com/users/fimbrethiel/
Email: fimbrethiel @ yahoo.com
Type: FPS
Pairings/Characters: Elladan/Elrohir/Glorfindel, Glorfindel/Erestor, Estel
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: explicit depictions of homoerotic acts between consenting males, twincest, 3-way, voyeurism, masturbation. Mostly PWP, a wee bit of story
Disclaimer: Don’t own the Elves, they are owned by Tolkien’s estate. Master Tolkien, I mean no harm. No profit has been made.
Betas: Helena, Donna, NimrodelJen, Orchyd Constyne (various chapters)
Original date of completion: June 8, 2004 (revised January 2015)
Summary: During a game of cards, the sons of Elrond decide to make a private wager, and the Golden One will be the prize. They have a witness, who will soon meet someone who will change his life.
Italics not used for simple emphasis denote mindspeak
*~*~*~*~*
If you want to kiss the sky you better learn how to kneel.
On your knees, boy…
U2
*~*~*~*~*
Glorfindel deposited Estel in his chamber, assisting the woozy young man in removing his boots and tunic before settling him among the blankets and fluffy pillows on his bed. He chuckled softly as Estel snuggled into the comfort of his bed and immediately fell into an alcohol-induced slumber. Glorfindel fondly brushed a lock of dark hair off Estel’s forehead, ruminating briefly how young, yet noble, he looked. This one is destined for great things, he thought, knowing his predictions were uncanny in their accuracy. Something about having died did that to someone, he surmised.
The hallways were dimly lit that time of night, most of the inhabitants of Imladris having already gone to bed. Glorfindel trod lightly, his footsteps soft and unhurried, making only the barest whisper on the tiled floor. He took his time as he pondered the happenings in the twins’ rooms.
At the first brush of a foot against his, Glorfindel had thought it was an inadvertent misplacement of a limb, the simple matter of legs far too long under a table much too small. The second, though, there was no mistaking it. For Elladan’s sake, Glorfindel assumed a façade of ignorance, giving himself time to assess the situation.
Glorfindel, being an honorable Elf, would never breach another’s thoughts without permission. However, being ancient among the Eldar, he could sense the moods and general feelings of others without actually entering their minds. What he gleaned from reading the emotions of the Peredhil took him by surprise. His initial thought was of shock, which eventually gave way to amazement and intrigue.
The twins were stunning creatures. Standing only a fraction less in stature than Glorfindel himself, they were slim, clean-limbed and long of arm and leg. The brethren possessed the slightly darker-hued skin tone of their father's Edain ancestry. The dark locks and piercing gray eyes of their father were enhanced by Celebrían’s bequest of grace and beauty, adding to their exotic looks. The twins were as different as Anor and Ithil in temperament, yet complemented each other perfectly. The Noldor blood of their forbearers, combined with that of Melian, most beautiful of Maiar, ensured that the Half-elven twins of Imladris were fair of face beyond measure of Men and Elves.
Glorfindel reached the door to the twins’ suite and paused for another moment before entering.
Elladan was intent on seduction. And where Elladan was involved, so was Elrohir, as well. Elladan was always the instigator; he had been since the twins were small, somehow convincing his younger brother to go along with his plans. Glorfindel wondered how far the brethren would carry this game of seduction, and decided then to play along with them and see just how far they would go.
*~*~*~*~*
He knocked lightly on the door to let the twins know he had returned. Scurrying and rustling ensued, before a voice finally answered. “Glorfindel? Enter.”
To outward appearances, nothing had changed. The gaming table was laid as it had been when he left; his cards lay untouched before his seat. The candlelight still illuminated the chamber with a soft glow. Yet, something was different. The twins looked just a bit rumpled, their skin flushed. Elladan had a look of satisfied amusement on his flushed face, while Elrohir appeared to be shaky and having difficulty catching his breath. Glorfindel detected a slightly musky undercurrent mingling with the fresh outdoor scent in the air. Those two just cannot keep their hands off each other, he thought wryly as he recognized the smell of sex.
With a determined look of nonchalance on his face, Glorfindel returned to the seat he had vacated earlier. Now that they have had their little bit of fun, let us see in what manner they will continue this farce, he thought, gathering his cards. Beginning to shuffle, he met Elrohir's eye across the table and gave him a knowing wink. He was most amused to see Elrohir blush.
*~*~*~*~*
After the first few moments of boozy slumber, Estel woke with a headache pulsing queasily behind his temples. His heart raced, and he felt restless, tangled and stifled by the bed coverings. It was a common happening when he imbibed the rich Elven wine that was an Imladris favorite; after the initial intoxication, he found himself plagued with insomnia. With a wry smile, he recalled Glorfindel’s words. It was true; he had lived among the Elves for his entire life and did sometimes forget he was not of their kind. It was not his habit to overindulge in this manner, but Glorfindel was correct. It had been an emotional day, and the wine had gone straight to his head. It was not every day that one learned he was a descendant of the line of Elros and rightful heir to the throne of Gondor.
He rose unsteadily from his bed and lit a taper on the table. Clutching the candle precariously in one hand, he staggered to his private bathing chamber to relieve himself. He rummaged through a drawer, searching for Elrond’s special 'morning after' mix and found just enough of the liquid in the elusive bottle for one last dose.
Returning to his bedchamber, he noted with amusement that his tunic was strewn on the chair beside the bed and his boots dropped haphazardly next to it. Glorfindel was widely lauded for many things; neatness was not one of them.
Stripping off his leggings, he shrugged on a thin night robe over his nakedness and poured himself a goblet of water. Goblet in one hand, candle in the other, he stepped outside to the wide porch and into the warm night air to wait for Elrond’s hangover cure to take effect. How he envied the Elves and their ability to imbibe without lasting effects!
The family wing of the Last Homely House was arranged in a rough L-shape. Immediate family occupied the quarters on the first level. The twins, who had never been separated since birth, shared the largest suite, one that had been specially designed by joining two smaller chambers around a central common area and private bathing room. The upper echelon in Elrond’s employ, primarily Glorfindel, Erestor, and Lindir, along with a few of the higher-ranking members of Elrond’s counsel, were housed on the second floor. Elrond’s own quarters occupied most of the third level and had an almost panoramic view of the breathtaking vistas and waterfalls of the beautiful valley and the Misty Mountains.
Estel seated himself in one of the comfortable chairs placed strategically around the porch and stretched his long legs out in front of him. He placed the goblet on the ground near his chair and blew out the candle, allowing the darkness to soothe the dull thumping in his head. He leaned his head back against the chair and closed his eyes, waiting for the potion to take effect and calm the jittery feeling that inevitably came with overindulgence. The night sounds – crickets chirping idyllically, owls mournfully hooting, and the rustle of nocturnal creatures foraging among the shrubberies – lulled him again into light slumber.
He woke with a start a while later and realized he was still outside. Ithil had traced a path across the sky and he reckoned he had been dozing for over an hour, but no more than two. He stretched and groaned, rubbing the stiffness from his neck. It was as he looked about him in the moonlight to gather his belongings that he noticed light coming from the twins’ room, adjacent and around the corner to his own. What he saw took his breath away, any thought of his lingering headache driven out of his mind.
*~*~*~*~*
More wine, more cards, more forward brushes of feet. A firm calf pressed against his, fingers lingered against a hand, a friendly touch to an arm held just a tiny bit longer than propriety dictated. Sly winks and lascivious licking of lips. A gaze held, gray eyes to blue, a moment longer than necessary.
The time for tact and diplomacy had long past. Those traits were better suited for Elrond’s counselor, anyway; Glorfindel’s way was more direct. What had begun as a seemingly, if not innocent, but simple game of flirtation had raged into a full-blown assault of seduction, and it ended now. Glorfindel was not a diplomat, he was a man of action, and he wanted answers.
He laid his cards face down and took a fortifying sip of his wine. “Elladan, what - ” Now that he had laid his cards on the table, so to speak, he found himself at a loss, and settled for simplicity. “Why?”
To Glorfindel’s surprise, it was Elrohir who groaned and slumped forward in his seat, burying his beautiful face in his hands. “I told you this would happen, El."
Elladan rose from his seat and rounded the table, kneeling on the floor next to his brother, and enfolded him in his arms. He rested his cheek against Elrohir's chest and softly stroked his hair. “Hush, beloved. This is my fault, not yours.”
Elrohir raised his head and wrapped his arms around his brother. “Nay, tôren, you are not to blame, I could have refused.” He bestowed a soft kiss on Elladan's forehead while Glorfindel looked on uncertainly. “I cannot go on with this charade. It was reprehensible and self-indulgent, and I will apologize.”
Elrohir gently extricated himself from the circle of his brother’s arms and rose to his feet, coming before Glorfindel and dropping to his knees. Glorfindel turned in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting with his head tilted questioningly to the side. This turn of events had him puzzled.
“I have wronged you, my lord,” Elrohir said formally, bowing his head. His face flushed crimson in embarrassment.
Glorfindel reached out with one large hand and gently tipped Elrohir’s chin up. “How did you wrong me, beautiful one? A few moments ago, your brother was engaged in a harmless game of flirtation. I am not so naïve as to be caught unawares of his ruse.” He paused, his hand dropping to Elrohir’s shoulder and rubbing gently. He caressed the ebony locks flowing over the strong shoulder before gently tucking a loose strand behind Elrohir’s ear.
Elladan dropped to his knees beside his brother. He wrapped one arm lovingly about his twin's waist and placed the other hand on Glorfindel’s knee before meeting the captain's piercing blue eyes. “I am the one at fault, Glorfindel. I cannot allow my brother to be held responsible for this charade.”
“Nay, it was I," Elrohir interrupted. "I saw you in the library, Glorfindel. Years ago. You and Erestor. You were - involved.”
Glorfindel’s eyes opened wide in surprise. His friendship with the raven-haired Chief Counselor had been deep and abiding for years beyond count, and the line between friend and lover was occasionally blurred. They were not exclusive, nor were they in love, but occasionally took comfort with each other. Most of their infrequent encounters took place in the privacy of their respective quarters. The tryst in the library, though, was one he remembered vividly and with fond memories. Erestor had surprised and delighted him with his ferocity that night. In truth, Glorfindel had surprised himself by yielding so enthusiastically.
Elrohir rushed on before he lost his nerve. “It was late, and I was returning to my room when I saw the library still brightly lit. I feared the servants had left the candles alight, and when I reached the door I saw the two of you through a crack in the draperies. I should not have watched, yet I stayed.” The blush suffusing his face darkened, and he hung his head in shame at his next words. “I wanted you then; I have wanted you since. I did not know how to approach you, for fear you would ridicule my desire as the infatuation of a child for his elder.”
Elladan softly stroked his brother’s back. “He came to me that night, and I knew then the depth of his passion for you. Tonight I saw an opportunity to give him what he has longed for. I suggested a wager: if he were to best us tonight, I would assist him in seducing you. If I were to win, he would be my slave for the night. It was not his fault, Glorfindel. Forgive me.”
“So, you sought to entrap me in a web of lies and deceit? Did you think me so ancient and decrepit that I would be unable to see through your ploy?" Glorfindel asked, his voice coming sharper than he intended. "Did you take me for a fool?”
Identical gray eyes lifted in horror, widening in fear and disbelief when they met the piercing sapphire gaze that bored into theirs. Glorfindel cupped a strong hand to the cheeks of the two who knelt before him, brushing the rough pad of each thumb over proud cheekbones.
Softening his tone, he looked from one exquisite face to the other, faces he held dear to his heart. “Did you think me so heartless as to ridicule your desires?” He slowly rose to his feet, bringing the two kneeling before him to stand. His hands roamed slowly across their backs with the barest touch, lifting inky silken strands of hair and allowing them to side sensuously through his fingers. An absolute delight, these two, he mused. Do they truly think me so immune to their charms?
“Oh my beautiful fools, did either of you think to simply ask?”
~*~*~ to be continued… ~*~*~
tôren = my brother (Sindarin)
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