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fimbrethielTitle: Winner Takes All (6/6)
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.
And whoa, I wrote an entire NC-17 story without once using the words fuck, cock, or ass. Go me. :)
Italics not used for simple emphasis denote mindspeak
*~*~*~*~*
And I need someone to love me
I know you can
Believe me when I tell you
you can love me like a man
- Bonnie Raitt
*~*~*~*~*
He sat in shadows, the dark night illuminated only by Ithil’s faint light. He had long suspected his foster brothers were lovers; this confirmation did not really come as a surprise. How many times had he returned from gathering wood during one of their travels to see the twins holding hands or wrapped together in an embrace? Rounded a corner of the Last Homely House and observed a stolen kiss, a lingering look? More often than not, across their shared campfire in the wilds, the twins woke entwined in a single bedroll, the second lying empty and forgotten nearby.
It was the way of the Elves to love as they would, be they male or female. To love one another was the greatest gift bestowed upon the Firstborn by The One, and there was no shame in any manner of its expression. The love between twins was revered above all; in time out of creation there was no love so rare, or so beautiful, as the bond shared by a single soul embodied by two. While he was of the Edain, he had been raised among the fair folk, as one of their kind, and saw no dishonor in any manner of loving.
He watched them, enthralled and aroused by their splendor as they made love with the noble, fair-haired captain. The sight brought a strange longing to his mortal heart. He wished he dared approach them, to simply knock on the door and confess his desire. To join with them. To share in a devotion so beautiful, so perfect… he longed for a love such as theirs, an enduring passion that transcended time.
He dared not, and so he watched.
As the figures in the room took their pleasures within each other’s bodies, he lurked in the shadows. Silently, listening to the moans and the sounds of lovemaking drifting through the open window. He slowly stroked his manhood, matching his pace with that of the figures on the bed as they writhed and bucked against each other. When they reached their climaxes with roars of ecstasy, he spilled his seed hot upon his hand, stifling his own guttural cry with the heel of the other hand pressed tightly against his mouth.
*~*~*~*~*
Spent, Elladan lay between his brother and Glorfindel as he fought to control his breathing and slow his racing heart. He and Elrohir had been lovers since shortly past their majority, but even after nearly two millennia, it still filled them with amazement that their lovemaking continued to become better.
His eyes were glassy with spent passion as he watched Elrohir and Glorfindel kiss fiercely, tongues and lips clashing wildly. They were a study in light and dark: Glorfindel’s pale, golden, blue-eyed splendor a perfect complement for Elrohir’s ebony-haired, exotic beauty, his gray eyes turned almost midnight with yearning.
Glorfindel rolled Elrohir onto his back and stretched his tall form upon the younger Elf's nude body, kissing him deeply. Golden tresses spilled across Elrohir’s lithe form as the warrior lowered his head and nipped Elrohir's neck with his teeth. He opened his mouth wide to take in as much of the creamy flesh as he could and sucked hard, marking Elrohir just above the collarbone.
Glorfindel chuckled wickedly at Elrohir's pained whimper. He rose on hands and knees and slithered down Elrohir’s lean body, a great, golden lion on the prowl, feral and dangerous, wild tawny mane flowing about his head and a predatory glint in his eyes. He kissed and licked a hot, moist trail down his lover’s torso and plunged his tongue into his navel, avoiding the swollen arousal lying hard and tight against Elrohir's stomach.
He laved the black ink scored in Elrohir's skin with hot wet strokes of his tongue, fascinated by the marking. Warm breath teased Elrohir’s shaft, which strained and twitched at the promise of ecstasy within those lips, so close but altogether too far away.
Standing, Glorfindel kept his eyes focused on the dark beauties entangled together. He toed off his boots and kicked them carelessly under the bed before untying the lacings on his breeches. He slid the soft leather slowly, sensuously down his lean hips, at last freeing his straining arousal. His heavy length sprang free, bobbing hard and proud as he slid the garment past muscled thighs and stepped gracefully out of them.
Elladan claimed his twin’s bruised lips in a loving kiss, tasting his own seed. One hand toyed with the braids in Elrohir’s hair while the other traced slow, lazy circles around pebbled nipples. Elrohir’s hands tangled in his elder brother’s hair, deepening their kiss. His tongue explored the warm mouth that he knew so well. At last they broke apart, breathing heavily.
The brethren drew their breath as one at the toned, pale form that stood before them. The sight of Glorfindel half clothed was not especially unusual. The captain of Imladris often sparred shirtless with his warriors, but neither had ever seen the golden Elf-lord in quite this light before. Hard and needy.
Glorfindel’s thoughts followed a similar path as he admired the twins' lightly bronzed torsos. The Peredhil were virtually identical, only the inked spots near their groins and their hair preferences made it possible to tell them apart tonight. Elrohir wore a few small decorative braids studded with red beads in his raven locks; Elladan’s thick tresses fell nearly to the small of his back, loose and flowing. The passion evident in their kiss was easily one of the most erotic, arousing things he had ever witnessed, and Glorfindel's body tingled with anticipation.
Elladan noticed that the draperies covering the windows parted, allowing the warm night breezes to flow throughout the room. “Glorfindel, draw the curtains please? I would hate to think we were unwittingly giving Estel a show,” he said between kisses to the smooth skin of his brother’s neck.
Glorfindel glanced briefly at the darkened window and shrugged. “Dear Estel was sleeping like a babe when I left him. He will not be rising any time soon.” He added smoothly, “Or perhaps he will wake, and believe playing with us is much preferable to sleep.”
“Glorfindel!” cried Elrohir. “He is our brother! Oof…” He winced as a sharp elbow jabbed him in the ribs.
“’Ro, I believe Glorfindel is, as the saying goes, ‘pulling your leg’,“ chided Elladan, who received an impressive impersonation of their father's raised eyebrow in response.
Glorfindel snorted with laughter as he reached for the twins’ extended hands, further thoughts of windows and draperies driven from their minds. Elladan and Elrohir drew him to the bed to lie between them and urged him onto his back. All traces of humor were gone, replaced by looks of rapt interest as their eyes and hands roamed his body appraisingly. Glorfindel closed his eyes and surrendered to the touches that meandered freely over the muscles of his chest and the plane of his stomach.
A warm mouth closed over his, the tongue teasing his lips before slipping inside. He leaned up, straining, trying to deepen the kiss, but the wayward tongue withdrew and snaked across his cheek to then close over the gold ring piercing his left earlobe. The mouth closed around it and gave a gentle tug before moving on. A slow, torturous path was traced up the pink shell before closing over the elegant pointed tip and suckling gently. Elladan… Elladan is on the left, he thought, distracted, as shivers wracked his frame.
A second warm, wet tongue teased his right nipple before sucking it in firmly. That is Elrohir… Gods, his mouth is magic. Fingernails lightly abraded the other pebbled nub and he drew his breath sharply between his teeth at the sensation.
“Wicked, both of you,” he managed to spit out, and received only matching throaty chuckles in reply.
He gasped when a strong hand closed suddenly over his leaking shaft and gave a quick, experimental stroke before quickly withdrawing. Another warm hand gently cupped the soft pouch below his arousal and deftly massaged the firm orbs within. He spread his legs wider, hips thrusting into empty air. He yearned for contact, something to ease the fire than grew ever hotter in his loins. He writhed on the bed and whimpered softly as trails of slick heat traced paths over his ribs, down his abdomen, leaving paths of kisses and nips in their wake.
Hands fondled and caressed his body, following the lines of muscles that were hard and strong from years of training. Calloused fingertips pinched and tweaked his aching nipples. Glorfindel soon lost track of which hands and lips belonged to which of his lovers as they mercilessly teased him to the brink of insanity, with only an occasional touch to the pulsing, throbbing member that lay taut against his stomach.
He keened softly as his weeping arousal was suddenly engulfed in a hot, wet mouth. He thrust his hips, trying to gain further entry into that heat, but hands pressed his pelvis firmly against the bed. Reluctantly he stilled his motion, his body at the sensual mercy of his raven-haired lovers.
One mouth sucked him relentlessly, drawing up the length just to the round crown before plunging back down nearly to the fine, soft hair that dusted the base. A second mouth nestled deeply between his widespread legs lapping at his sac, drawing first one fleshy orb into his mouth, then the other.
His hands clawed at the sheets; his body twisted of its own accord. He sought to end the delicious assault on his senses as he was brought to the edge of orgasm and back. Six… seven times; he had long since lost count. Each wave of pleasure transported him closer and closer to that pinnacle, so close but never quite within reach.
Glorfindel had taken lovers over the millennia, but never in his long years had he been overcome by such raging, consuming fire. His cries were pleading, incoherent, as he wept and begged for something, anything to end the furious inferno that ripped through him.
“Ai, please, Elladan… Elrohir… end this, I need to come, please…” Glorfindel's words were broken and harsh with need as he strained upward into that glorious heat. His arousal wept steadily, balls drawn up tight to his body, aching for release.
He cried aloud in dismay as the hot mouth encircling his shaft was suddenly withdrawn and the warm heat teasing his sac disappeared, leaving him painfully hard and quivering with unspent desire.
“Not yet, eager one,” one of his lovers whispered, grasping his straining erection firmly by the base and gripping tightly. Glorfindel stilled his motions and struggled to regain some control of his body.
Somewhere in the last remaining fiber of conscious he registered the quiet scraping of a drawer being opened and the dull clink of glass. Then cool liquid trickled along his erection, a strong finger following the slick rivulets through the downy blond hair, over the tight sac drawn close to his body, and traveling lower to the puckered entrance below. The finger traced a circle around the pink, wrinkled flesh that quivered in anticipation. A single digit inched slowly into that tight channel and stopped at the first knuckle.
Glorfindel groaned, then hissed in frustration at the gentle penetration when the finger stubbornly refused to advance. He pushed down and impaled himself fully on the finger straight to the knuckle. He heard a low chuckle from one of the twins before Elladan whispered, “Oh my, you are an impatient one.”
A second finger joined the first, stretching and scissoring. A third was quickly added, twisting and circling, searching for the tiny nub that would bring so much delight. Glorfindel gasped as the questing fingers found their target, stroking and rubbing as his lover worked his body as it had never been before and brought him to heights he’d never imagined possible.
He forced open eyelids heavy with passion as Elrohir spoke softly. “We would have you now, Glorfindel, if you would permit us. Do you have a preference? Would you have me take you, or would you prefer my brother’s touch?”
The golden warrior moistened his lips and struggled to speak, his eyes glazed dark with passion as he gazed down his over sensitized body. He met Elrohir's smoldering eyes, fingers still embedded deeply within him. His voice was husky and raw with need. “I would have you, Elrohir.”
“Aye, my love, as you wish.” Elrohir leaned into his brother, keeping his fingers in place. He plundered Elladan’s mouth in a heated kiss before pulling back and instructing his twin to lean against the headboard.
Elladan groaned in frustration as he extricated himself from the tangle of limbs and moved to the head of the bed. He lay back against the pillows and slowly began stroking his weeping erection, never pulling his eyes from his brother.
Do not fret, tôren, we will not forget about you. Elrohir’s silent admonishment was slightly teasing when he gave his brother a roguish wink.
Elrohir removed his fingers and knelt between Glorfindel’s knees. “Raise your legs, love,” he instructed, then rested Glorfindel's feet against his shoulders. The tiny pink opening was fully exposed, slightly open and glistening with slick oil. The position afforded deep, strong penetration, something Elrohir would never consider with a less experienced lover. He braced Glorfindel's feet firmly, and coated his own length with the viscous fluid before tossing the vial to his brother, who caught it one-handed.
He moved forward and positioned himself at the entrance to Glorfindel’s body. With a steady, long, slow push he buried himself balls-deep.
Glorfindel tensed at the sudden intrusion, keening softly at the burning sensation as he willed his body to relax. The strong muscles of his passage constricted tightly against the invading flesh.
Elrohir squeezed his eyes shut and fought against the need to begin thrusting into that magnificent body. Mordor’s flames, El, he is so wonderfully tight.
Elrohir’s voice was strangled with barely-controlled need. "Tell me when you are ready, beautiful one.” He forced himself to remain motionless, his body quaking, to allow his lover’s body to become accustomed to his size.
Glorfindel breathed deeply for a few moments, the tension slowly seeping from his body. Gradually the discomfort gave way to a feeling of fullness as the tight ring of muscle relaxed, and finally he nodded.
Remaining deeply embedded, Elrohir slowly began to move in small thrusts. Glorfindel winced slightly, his lips pursed. Elrohir changed his angle slightly and brushed against the nub inside that tight channel, sending a bolt of white heat through Glorfindel's body and sparks behind his eyelids. His eyes flew open wide as he arched his neck and yelped in pleasure.
“Ah, yes… Elrohir…” Glorfindel moaned, rolling his head side to side as his lover began longer thrusts, taking care to brush that pleasure spot only every second or third stroke.
“Your sighs and moans are enthralling, lovely one. I would have you cry my name a hundred times and still crave to hear more,” Elrohir murmured, thrusting slowly and deeply into Glorfindel’s body.
Glorfindel's hands thrummed helplessly against the sheets, desperate to touch and bring himself to completion. He was unable to get his hands between their bodies to stroke his aching arousal, and finally gripped Elrohir’s forearms tightly as his lover rocked into him, long and deep.
Are you enjoying yourself, my love?
It took a moment for Elrohir to realize that Elladan was addressing him. It was becoming increasingly difficult to breath, let alone think as he moved within Glorfindel's tight heat. Elrohir raked his eyes over Elladan’s form, lounged against the headboard and slowly pleasuring himself as he watched them.
Aye, tôren, very much so, Elrohir agreed. You, however, look a bit lonely, although you do present a fetching vision as you pleasure yourself. Making a sudden decision, Elrohir spoke into his twin’s mind and allowed his brother a vision of what he had in mind.
Elladan’s eyes widened as he saw the mental picture his twin showed him, and grinned wolfishly. Aye, I can do that.
Glorfindel barked in surprise when Elrohir's hand suddenly smacked him soundly on the bottom and pulled out abruptly. “Up you go, gorgeous. On your hands and knees.”
Glorfindel protested at the loss of the thick length filling him and grudgingly rolled over, raising his trembling body to rest upon hands and knees. His dusky arousal hung heavily between his thighs, untouched and weeping. He dropped his chin to his chest, veiling his flushed and sweating face with hair that clung to his damp skin. He wiggled his bottom in encouragement and rocked backward searching for Elrohir. He tossed his head to flick the clinging hair from his face and lifted his head.
And stared.
Elladan lay at the head of the bed, his upper body supported by pillows, but he lay with knees bent to the side, his pink puckered opening completely exposed to view. As his audience watched in lustful attention, he upended the vial and drizzled a trickle of oil over his fingers. He licked his lips and reached behind him to slide a slick finger into his backside, moaning as he pumped in and out, then slid a second in beside the first. His eyes rolled back in bliss as he rocked his hips, riding his own fingers. A third was added to the slippery passage, stretching and lubricating, and he lowered his gaze and stared piercingly at Glorfindel, a silent challenge issuing from his gray eyes.
Elrohir pressed a kiss against the small of Glorfindel’s back before kneeling behind and sheathing himself again in the captain's tight channel. Elrohir languorously swayed against his lover as he watched Elladan’s preparation with keen interest. As familiar with his brother’s body as he was his own, Elrohir knew Glorfindel would not last long sheathed in Elladan’s sinful depths.
Elladan withdrew his fingers and slinked with feline grace toward Glorfindel, and then captured his lips in a searing kiss. His tongue swirled around Glorfindel’s wet heat, chasing and teasing before he finally pulled back, leaving the captain panting. He lapped at the Elf-lord’s sweat-slicked neck, then opened his mouth wide just below Glorfindel's ear and sucked hard, leaving a dark passion mark.
Glorfindel gasped as his overheated skin was sucked and pulled. Elladan whispered mischievously against his ear, “Consider that retribution for marking my beautiful brother,” before giving a final lick to the tip of the pointed ear and moving away.
Elrohir lifted Glorfindel almost upright, while Elladan turned and wriggled backward. Glorfindel took his own erection in hand and pressed the blunt head against Elladan’s slick opening.
Elladan slowly pushed back, impaling himself upon Glorfindel’s flesh. At that moment, Elrohir thrust sharply, propelling Glorfindel forward to sheath himself fully in Elladan’s tight passage. Elladan was well prepared and was able to accept Glorfindel’s ample length easily and with little discomfort, murmuring appreciation as Glorfindel’s thick shaft filled him.
Their position was awkward, but with a bit of wiggling and repositioning, the lovers managed to settle into a configuration that worked reasonably well.
Elrohir set a brutal pace, able no longer to hold back his ardor. He tangled his hands through Glorfindel’s glorious locks and pounded roughly into the ivory body beneath him. He withdrew almost fully before plunging back in to the hilt. His breath came in panting gasps, words of passion in Elvish and Westron spilling from his lips as he drove his lovers ever closer to their peaks.
Glorfindel met Elrohir's thrusts eagerly with frantic counter-thrusts of his own, each forward motion sheathing his heated flesh again and again into Elladan’s velvet depths. Each of Elrohir’s strokes sent white heat through his loins, bringing him closer and closer to that elusive release and forcing a mewl of desire from his lips. Fell and desperate, he was almost mad with need. Liquid fire tore through his veins, his mind void of all thought save putting an end to this sweet agony.
Elladan, pinned almost motionless by the solid weight of two bodies atop his, braced his arms against the bed, helpless to do anything but revel in the sensation of being filled by Glorfindel’s heavy length. His own second release was close and the only thing he could do was lie passively, struggling to breathe, and allow his mind to wander through that of his brother’s, their ever-present connection strong now. It fascinated him to mentally hear his twin’s garbled, random bits of conscious bleed through unadulterated need. And the waves of raw lust that roiled around the periphery of Glorfindel's mind was enough to take what remained of his breath away and propel him closer to his own completion.
In the throes of passion, Glorfindel opened his mind to his lovers and allowed the three to meld as they neared their climaxes. He reached his release first, his long-denied orgasm tearing through his body, a hoarse shout ripped from his chest. Tremors wracked his long frame as he pumped deep into Elladan’s body. His body shuddered with spasms of bliss, nearly blinding him with its intensity. His inner muscles clenched with the force of his orgasm, wrenching a mind-blowing climax from Elrohir.
Elrohir threw back his head and howled as he was hurled over the edge, eyes clenched tightly. He thrust hard into Glorfindel's quivering passage, straining, his seed flooding the captain's body in hot spurts.
Elladan’s own release closely followed. The swirling maelstrom of lust from his lovers that flooded his mind was enough to send him plummeting into the abyss. He spilled himself onto the sheets with a long groan, his member untouched but for the friction of the bed coverings beneath him.
Spent and exhausted, they collapsed to the bed, sweaty and sticky with the evidence of their passion. They lay entangled, dark against light, panting as they struggled to catch their breath.
Elrohir relaxed into the warmth surrounding him as strong arms encircled him from front and behind. He wrapped his arms around his brother and leaned his head back, nestling the crown of his head under Glorfindel’s chin. Glorfindel kissed the top of his head and snuggled closer, his softening member pressed firmly against the cleft of Elrohir’s buttocks. The younger twin felt the steady thumping of his brother’s heart against his, echoed by Glorfindel’s beating steadily against his back. He felt a sense of perfect contentment.
Elrohir snuggled closer to the warmth of his body as they whispered words of love and affection to one another. How odd, each thought, that a simple game of cards and a ridiculous wager could end up in a moment such as this? They did not know what the morrow would bring, but for now, the night was enough.
Sated and content, the three drifted off to sleep as the candles sputtered and went out, leaving only Ithil’s pale light to bathe them in a soft glow.
*~*~*~*~*
Anor had nearly reached her zenith by the time Estel rolled from his bed, mussed and tangled and sticky from his own seed. He washed and dressed quickly before hurrying to the dining hall to belatedly break his fast.
His brothers and Glorfindel were absent, he noted with mixed dismay and relief as he filled a plate with light fare and settled into a quiet alcove. He ate slowly, deep in thought, memories of the evening before fresh in his mind. At last he sighed deeply and rose, setting out in search of his foster brothers.
“…ing, Estel.” Lost in his musings, he started when he heard Erestor's melodious voice addressing him. “I bring word from Elladan and Elrohir. They have gone hunting and bade me inform you they knocked upon your chamber door early this morn. When you did not answer, they allowed you to sleep and said they will join you this eve in the Hall of Fire.”
“Thank you, Erestor,” Estel answered, dipping his head and resting his right fist upon his heart. “And Lord Glorfindel? Did he join them as well?”
“Nay, he has been closeted with Lord Elrond most of the morning with the ambassadors of Lothlórien. I am just now on my way to join them,” Erestor replied, and bid Estel a good day before taking his leave.
Estel greeted Lady Gilraen in the hallway and spoke with her briefly before retiring again to his chambers, ready to spend a day of quiet contemplation. As dusk drew nigh he grew restive and determined a walk by the river would remedy the unsettled feeling that lingered within him.
He strolled through the glades of Imladris, relishing the lingering warmth of Anor’s light caressing his skin as she descended over the horizon. Refreshed, he sang softly to himself.
“…And suddenly even as he sang he saw a maiden walking on a greensward among the white stems of the birches; and he halted amazed, thinking that he had strayed into a dream, or else that he had received the gift of the Elf-minstrels, who can make the things of which they sing appear before the eyes of those that listen.
For [he] had been singing a part of the Lay of Lúthien which tells of the meeting of Lúthien and Beren in the forest of Neldoreth. And behold! there Lúthien walked before his eyes in Rivendell, clad in a mantle of silver and blue, fair as the twilight in Elven-home; her dark hair strayed in a sudden wind, and her brows were bound with gems like stars.”1
Estel, Aragorn, Arathorn’s son, Isildur’s heir, Lord of the Dúnedain, had found his enduring passion.
~*~*~ finis ~*~*~
1 —J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, Appendix A, “The Tale of Aragorn and Arwen”
To be continued in the sequel ‘Learning the Game'
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.
And whoa, I wrote an entire NC-17 story without once using the words fuck, cock, or ass. Go me. :)
Italics not used for simple emphasis denote mindspeak
*~*~*~*~*
And I need someone to love me
I know you can
Believe me when I tell you
you can love me like a man
- Bonnie Raitt
*~*~*~*~*
He sat in shadows, the dark night illuminated only by Ithil’s faint light. He had long suspected his foster brothers were lovers; this confirmation did not really come as a surprise. How many times had he returned from gathering wood during one of their travels to see the twins holding hands or wrapped together in an embrace? Rounded a corner of the Last Homely House and observed a stolen kiss, a lingering look? More often than not, across their shared campfire in the wilds, the twins woke entwined in a single bedroll, the second lying empty and forgotten nearby.
It was the way of the Elves to love as they would, be they male or female. To love one another was the greatest gift bestowed upon the Firstborn by The One, and there was no shame in any manner of its expression. The love between twins was revered above all; in time out of creation there was no love so rare, or so beautiful, as the bond shared by a single soul embodied by two. While he was of the Edain, he had been raised among the fair folk, as one of their kind, and saw no dishonor in any manner of loving.
He watched them, enthralled and aroused by their splendor as they made love with the noble, fair-haired captain. The sight brought a strange longing to his mortal heart. He wished he dared approach them, to simply knock on the door and confess his desire. To join with them. To share in a devotion so beautiful, so perfect… he longed for a love such as theirs, an enduring passion that transcended time.
He dared not, and so he watched.
As the figures in the room took their pleasures within each other’s bodies, he lurked in the shadows. Silently, listening to the moans and the sounds of lovemaking drifting through the open window. He slowly stroked his manhood, matching his pace with that of the figures on the bed as they writhed and bucked against each other. When they reached their climaxes with roars of ecstasy, he spilled his seed hot upon his hand, stifling his own guttural cry with the heel of the other hand pressed tightly against his mouth.
*~*~*~*~*
Spent, Elladan lay between his brother and Glorfindel as he fought to control his breathing and slow his racing heart. He and Elrohir had been lovers since shortly past their majority, but even after nearly two millennia, it still filled them with amazement that their lovemaking continued to become better.
His eyes were glassy with spent passion as he watched Elrohir and Glorfindel kiss fiercely, tongues and lips clashing wildly. They were a study in light and dark: Glorfindel’s pale, golden, blue-eyed splendor a perfect complement for Elrohir’s ebony-haired, exotic beauty, his gray eyes turned almost midnight with yearning.
Glorfindel rolled Elrohir onto his back and stretched his tall form upon the younger Elf's nude body, kissing him deeply. Golden tresses spilled across Elrohir’s lithe form as the warrior lowered his head and nipped Elrohir's neck with his teeth. He opened his mouth wide to take in as much of the creamy flesh as he could and sucked hard, marking Elrohir just above the collarbone.
Glorfindel chuckled wickedly at Elrohir's pained whimper. He rose on hands and knees and slithered down Elrohir’s lean body, a great, golden lion on the prowl, feral and dangerous, wild tawny mane flowing about his head and a predatory glint in his eyes. He kissed and licked a hot, moist trail down his lover’s torso and plunged his tongue into his navel, avoiding the swollen arousal lying hard and tight against Elrohir's stomach.
He laved the black ink scored in Elrohir's skin with hot wet strokes of his tongue, fascinated by the marking. Warm breath teased Elrohir’s shaft, which strained and twitched at the promise of ecstasy within those lips, so close but altogether too far away.
Standing, Glorfindel kept his eyes focused on the dark beauties entangled together. He toed off his boots and kicked them carelessly under the bed before untying the lacings on his breeches. He slid the soft leather slowly, sensuously down his lean hips, at last freeing his straining arousal. His heavy length sprang free, bobbing hard and proud as he slid the garment past muscled thighs and stepped gracefully out of them.
Elladan claimed his twin’s bruised lips in a loving kiss, tasting his own seed. One hand toyed with the braids in Elrohir’s hair while the other traced slow, lazy circles around pebbled nipples. Elrohir’s hands tangled in his elder brother’s hair, deepening their kiss. His tongue explored the warm mouth that he knew so well. At last they broke apart, breathing heavily.
The brethren drew their breath as one at the toned, pale form that stood before them. The sight of Glorfindel half clothed was not especially unusual. The captain of Imladris often sparred shirtless with his warriors, but neither had ever seen the golden Elf-lord in quite this light before. Hard and needy.
Glorfindel’s thoughts followed a similar path as he admired the twins' lightly bronzed torsos. The Peredhil were virtually identical, only the inked spots near their groins and their hair preferences made it possible to tell them apart tonight. Elrohir wore a few small decorative braids studded with red beads in his raven locks; Elladan’s thick tresses fell nearly to the small of his back, loose and flowing. The passion evident in their kiss was easily one of the most erotic, arousing things he had ever witnessed, and Glorfindel's body tingled with anticipation.
Elladan noticed that the draperies covering the windows parted, allowing the warm night breezes to flow throughout the room. “Glorfindel, draw the curtains please? I would hate to think we were unwittingly giving Estel a show,” he said between kisses to the smooth skin of his brother’s neck.
Glorfindel glanced briefly at the darkened window and shrugged. “Dear Estel was sleeping like a babe when I left him. He will not be rising any time soon.” He added smoothly, “Or perhaps he will wake, and believe playing with us is much preferable to sleep.”
“Glorfindel!” cried Elrohir. “He is our brother! Oof…” He winced as a sharp elbow jabbed him in the ribs.
“’Ro, I believe Glorfindel is, as the saying goes, ‘pulling your leg’,“ chided Elladan, who received an impressive impersonation of their father's raised eyebrow in response.
Glorfindel snorted with laughter as he reached for the twins’ extended hands, further thoughts of windows and draperies driven from their minds. Elladan and Elrohir drew him to the bed to lie between them and urged him onto his back. All traces of humor were gone, replaced by looks of rapt interest as their eyes and hands roamed his body appraisingly. Glorfindel closed his eyes and surrendered to the touches that meandered freely over the muscles of his chest and the plane of his stomach.
A warm mouth closed over his, the tongue teasing his lips before slipping inside. He leaned up, straining, trying to deepen the kiss, but the wayward tongue withdrew and snaked across his cheek to then close over the gold ring piercing his left earlobe. The mouth closed around it and gave a gentle tug before moving on. A slow, torturous path was traced up the pink shell before closing over the elegant pointed tip and suckling gently. Elladan… Elladan is on the left, he thought, distracted, as shivers wracked his frame.
A second warm, wet tongue teased his right nipple before sucking it in firmly. That is Elrohir… Gods, his mouth is magic. Fingernails lightly abraded the other pebbled nub and he drew his breath sharply between his teeth at the sensation.
“Wicked, both of you,” he managed to spit out, and received only matching throaty chuckles in reply.
He gasped when a strong hand closed suddenly over his leaking shaft and gave a quick, experimental stroke before quickly withdrawing. Another warm hand gently cupped the soft pouch below his arousal and deftly massaged the firm orbs within. He spread his legs wider, hips thrusting into empty air. He yearned for contact, something to ease the fire than grew ever hotter in his loins. He writhed on the bed and whimpered softly as trails of slick heat traced paths over his ribs, down his abdomen, leaving paths of kisses and nips in their wake.
Hands fondled and caressed his body, following the lines of muscles that were hard and strong from years of training. Calloused fingertips pinched and tweaked his aching nipples. Glorfindel soon lost track of which hands and lips belonged to which of his lovers as they mercilessly teased him to the brink of insanity, with only an occasional touch to the pulsing, throbbing member that lay taut against his stomach.
He keened softly as his weeping arousal was suddenly engulfed in a hot, wet mouth. He thrust his hips, trying to gain further entry into that heat, but hands pressed his pelvis firmly against the bed. Reluctantly he stilled his motion, his body at the sensual mercy of his raven-haired lovers.
One mouth sucked him relentlessly, drawing up the length just to the round crown before plunging back down nearly to the fine, soft hair that dusted the base. A second mouth nestled deeply between his widespread legs lapping at his sac, drawing first one fleshy orb into his mouth, then the other.
His hands clawed at the sheets; his body twisted of its own accord. He sought to end the delicious assault on his senses as he was brought to the edge of orgasm and back. Six… seven times; he had long since lost count. Each wave of pleasure transported him closer and closer to that pinnacle, so close but never quite within reach.
Glorfindel had taken lovers over the millennia, but never in his long years had he been overcome by such raging, consuming fire. His cries were pleading, incoherent, as he wept and begged for something, anything to end the furious inferno that ripped through him.
“Ai, please, Elladan… Elrohir… end this, I need to come, please…” Glorfindel's words were broken and harsh with need as he strained upward into that glorious heat. His arousal wept steadily, balls drawn up tight to his body, aching for release.
He cried aloud in dismay as the hot mouth encircling his shaft was suddenly withdrawn and the warm heat teasing his sac disappeared, leaving him painfully hard and quivering with unspent desire.
“Not yet, eager one,” one of his lovers whispered, grasping his straining erection firmly by the base and gripping tightly. Glorfindel stilled his motions and struggled to regain some control of his body.
Somewhere in the last remaining fiber of conscious he registered the quiet scraping of a drawer being opened and the dull clink of glass. Then cool liquid trickled along his erection, a strong finger following the slick rivulets through the downy blond hair, over the tight sac drawn close to his body, and traveling lower to the puckered entrance below. The finger traced a circle around the pink, wrinkled flesh that quivered in anticipation. A single digit inched slowly into that tight channel and stopped at the first knuckle.
Glorfindel groaned, then hissed in frustration at the gentle penetration when the finger stubbornly refused to advance. He pushed down and impaled himself fully on the finger straight to the knuckle. He heard a low chuckle from one of the twins before Elladan whispered, “Oh my, you are an impatient one.”
A second finger joined the first, stretching and scissoring. A third was quickly added, twisting and circling, searching for the tiny nub that would bring so much delight. Glorfindel gasped as the questing fingers found their target, stroking and rubbing as his lover worked his body as it had never been before and brought him to heights he’d never imagined possible.
He forced open eyelids heavy with passion as Elrohir spoke softly. “We would have you now, Glorfindel, if you would permit us. Do you have a preference? Would you have me take you, or would you prefer my brother’s touch?”
The golden warrior moistened his lips and struggled to speak, his eyes glazed dark with passion as he gazed down his over sensitized body. He met Elrohir's smoldering eyes, fingers still embedded deeply within him. His voice was husky and raw with need. “I would have you, Elrohir.”
“Aye, my love, as you wish.” Elrohir leaned into his brother, keeping his fingers in place. He plundered Elladan’s mouth in a heated kiss before pulling back and instructing his twin to lean against the headboard.
Elladan groaned in frustration as he extricated himself from the tangle of limbs and moved to the head of the bed. He lay back against the pillows and slowly began stroking his weeping erection, never pulling his eyes from his brother.
Do not fret, tôren, we will not forget about you. Elrohir’s silent admonishment was slightly teasing when he gave his brother a roguish wink.
Elrohir removed his fingers and knelt between Glorfindel’s knees. “Raise your legs, love,” he instructed, then rested Glorfindel's feet against his shoulders. The tiny pink opening was fully exposed, slightly open and glistening with slick oil. The position afforded deep, strong penetration, something Elrohir would never consider with a less experienced lover. He braced Glorfindel's feet firmly, and coated his own length with the viscous fluid before tossing the vial to his brother, who caught it one-handed.
He moved forward and positioned himself at the entrance to Glorfindel’s body. With a steady, long, slow push he buried himself balls-deep.
Glorfindel tensed at the sudden intrusion, keening softly at the burning sensation as he willed his body to relax. The strong muscles of his passage constricted tightly against the invading flesh.
Elrohir squeezed his eyes shut and fought against the need to begin thrusting into that magnificent body. Mordor’s flames, El, he is so wonderfully tight.
Elrohir’s voice was strangled with barely-controlled need. "Tell me when you are ready, beautiful one.” He forced himself to remain motionless, his body quaking, to allow his lover’s body to become accustomed to his size.
Glorfindel breathed deeply for a few moments, the tension slowly seeping from his body. Gradually the discomfort gave way to a feeling of fullness as the tight ring of muscle relaxed, and finally he nodded.
Remaining deeply embedded, Elrohir slowly began to move in small thrusts. Glorfindel winced slightly, his lips pursed. Elrohir changed his angle slightly and brushed against the nub inside that tight channel, sending a bolt of white heat through Glorfindel's body and sparks behind his eyelids. His eyes flew open wide as he arched his neck and yelped in pleasure.
“Ah, yes… Elrohir…” Glorfindel moaned, rolling his head side to side as his lover began longer thrusts, taking care to brush that pleasure spot only every second or third stroke.
“Your sighs and moans are enthralling, lovely one. I would have you cry my name a hundred times and still crave to hear more,” Elrohir murmured, thrusting slowly and deeply into Glorfindel’s body.
Glorfindel's hands thrummed helplessly against the sheets, desperate to touch and bring himself to completion. He was unable to get his hands between their bodies to stroke his aching arousal, and finally gripped Elrohir’s forearms tightly as his lover rocked into him, long and deep.
Are you enjoying yourself, my love?
It took a moment for Elrohir to realize that Elladan was addressing him. It was becoming increasingly difficult to breath, let alone think as he moved within Glorfindel's tight heat. Elrohir raked his eyes over Elladan’s form, lounged against the headboard and slowly pleasuring himself as he watched them.
Aye, tôren, very much so, Elrohir agreed. You, however, look a bit lonely, although you do present a fetching vision as you pleasure yourself. Making a sudden decision, Elrohir spoke into his twin’s mind and allowed his brother a vision of what he had in mind.
Elladan’s eyes widened as he saw the mental picture his twin showed him, and grinned wolfishly. Aye, I can do that.
Glorfindel barked in surprise when Elrohir's hand suddenly smacked him soundly on the bottom and pulled out abruptly. “Up you go, gorgeous. On your hands and knees.”
Glorfindel protested at the loss of the thick length filling him and grudgingly rolled over, raising his trembling body to rest upon hands and knees. His dusky arousal hung heavily between his thighs, untouched and weeping. He dropped his chin to his chest, veiling his flushed and sweating face with hair that clung to his damp skin. He wiggled his bottom in encouragement and rocked backward searching for Elrohir. He tossed his head to flick the clinging hair from his face and lifted his head.
And stared.
Elladan lay at the head of the bed, his upper body supported by pillows, but he lay with knees bent to the side, his pink puckered opening completely exposed to view. As his audience watched in lustful attention, he upended the vial and drizzled a trickle of oil over his fingers. He licked his lips and reached behind him to slide a slick finger into his backside, moaning as he pumped in and out, then slid a second in beside the first. His eyes rolled back in bliss as he rocked his hips, riding his own fingers. A third was added to the slippery passage, stretching and lubricating, and he lowered his gaze and stared piercingly at Glorfindel, a silent challenge issuing from his gray eyes.
Elrohir pressed a kiss against the small of Glorfindel’s back before kneeling behind and sheathing himself again in the captain's tight channel. Elrohir languorously swayed against his lover as he watched Elladan’s preparation with keen interest. As familiar with his brother’s body as he was his own, Elrohir knew Glorfindel would not last long sheathed in Elladan’s sinful depths.
Elladan withdrew his fingers and slinked with feline grace toward Glorfindel, and then captured his lips in a searing kiss. His tongue swirled around Glorfindel’s wet heat, chasing and teasing before he finally pulled back, leaving the captain panting. He lapped at the Elf-lord’s sweat-slicked neck, then opened his mouth wide just below Glorfindel's ear and sucked hard, leaving a dark passion mark.
Glorfindel gasped as his overheated skin was sucked and pulled. Elladan whispered mischievously against his ear, “Consider that retribution for marking my beautiful brother,” before giving a final lick to the tip of the pointed ear and moving away.
Elrohir lifted Glorfindel almost upright, while Elladan turned and wriggled backward. Glorfindel took his own erection in hand and pressed the blunt head against Elladan’s slick opening.
Elladan slowly pushed back, impaling himself upon Glorfindel’s flesh. At that moment, Elrohir thrust sharply, propelling Glorfindel forward to sheath himself fully in Elladan’s tight passage. Elladan was well prepared and was able to accept Glorfindel’s ample length easily and with little discomfort, murmuring appreciation as Glorfindel’s thick shaft filled him.
Their position was awkward, but with a bit of wiggling and repositioning, the lovers managed to settle into a configuration that worked reasonably well.
Elrohir set a brutal pace, able no longer to hold back his ardor. He tangled his hands through Glorfindel’s glorious locks and pounded roughly into the ivory body beneath him. He withdrew almost fully before plunging back in to the hilt. His breath came in panting gasps, words of passion in Elvish and Westron spilling from his lips as he drove his lovers ever closer to their peaks.
Glorfindel met Elrohir's thrusts eagerly with frantic counter-thrusts of his own, each forward motion sheathing his heated flesh again and again into Elladan’s velvet depths. Each of Elrohir’s strokes sent white heat through his loins, bringing him closer and closer to that elusive release and forcing a mewl of desire from his lips. Fell and desperate, he was almost mad with need. Liquid fire tore through his veins, his mind void of all thought save putting an end to this sweet agony.
Elladan, pinned almost motionless by the solid weight of two bodies atop his, braced his arms against the bed, helpless to do anything but revel in the sensation of being filled by Glorfindel’s heavy length. His own second release was close and the only thing he could do was lie passively, struggling to breathe, and allow his mind to wander through that of his brother’s, their ever-present connection strong now. It fascinated him to mentally hear his twin’s garbled, random bits of conscious bleed through unadulterated need. And the waves of raw lust that roiled around the periphery of Glorfindel's mind was enough to take what remained of his breath away and propel him closer to his own completion.
In the throes of passion, Glorfindel opened his mind to his lovers and allowed the three to meld as they neared their climaxes. He reached his release first, his long-denied orgasm tearing through his body, a hoarse shout ripped from his chest. Tremors wracked his long frame as he pumped deep into Elladan’s body. His body shuddered with spasms of bliss, nearly blinding him with its intensity. His inner muscles clenched with the force of his orgasm, wrenching a mind-blowing climax from Elrohir.
Elrohir threw back his head and howled as he was hurled over the edge, eyes clenched tightly. He thrust hard into Glorfindel's quivering passage, straining, his seed flooding the captain's body in hot spurts.
Elladan’s own release closely followed. The swirling maelstrom of lust from his lovers that flooded his mind was enough to send him plummeting into the abyss. He spilled himself onto the sheets with a long groan, his member untouched but for the friction of the bed coverings beneath him.
Spent and exhausted, they collapsed to the bed, sweaty and sticky with the evidence of their passion. They lay entangled, dark against light, panting as they struggled to catch their breath.
Elrohir relaxed into the warmth surrounding him as strong arms encircled him from front and behind. He wrapped his arms around his brother and leaned his head back, nestling the crown of his head under Glorfindel’s chin. Glorfindel kissed the top of his head and snuggled closer, his softening member pressed firmly against the cleft of Elrohir’s buttocks. The younger twin felt the steady thumping of his brother’s heart against his, echoed by Glorfindel’s beating steadily against his back. He felt a sense of perfect contentment.
Elrohir snuggled closer to the warmth of his body as they whispered words of love and affection to one another. How odd, each thought, that a simple game of cards and a ridiculous wager could end up in a moment such as this? They did not know what the morrow would bring, but for now, the night was enough.
Sated and content, the three drifted off to sleep as the candles sputtered and went out, leaving only Ithil’s pale light to bathe them in a soft glow.
*~*~*~*~*
Anor had nearly reached her zenith by the time Estel rolled from his bed, mussed and tangled and sticky from his own seed. He washed and dressed quickly before hurrying to the dining hall to belatedly break his fast.
His brothers and Glorfindel were absent, he noted with mixed dismay and relief as he filled a plate with light fare and settled into a quiet alcove. He ate slowly, deep in thought, memories of the evening before fresh in his mind. At last he sighed deeply and rose, setting out in search of his foster brothers.
“…ing, Estel.” Lost in his musings, he started when he heard Erestor's melodious voice addressing him. “I bring word from Elladan and Elrohir. They have gone hunting and bade me inform you they knocked upon your chamber door early this morn. When you did not answer, they allowed you to sleep and said they will join you this eve in the Hall of Fire.”
“Thank you, Erestor,” Estel answered, dipping his head and resting his right fist upon his heart. “And Lord Glorfindel? Did he join them as well?”
“Nay, he has been closeted with Lord Elrond most of the morning with the ambassadors of Lothlórien. I am just now on my way to join them,” Erestor replied, and bid Estel a good day before taking his leave.
Estel greeted Lady Gilraen in the hallway and spoke with her briefly before retiring again to his chambers, ready to spend a day of quiet contemplation. As dusk drew nigh he grew restive and determined a walk by the river would remedy the unsettled feeling that lingered within him.
He strolled through the glades of Imladris, relishing the lingering warmth of Anor’s light caressing his skin as she descended over the horizon. Refreshed, he sang softly to himself.
“…And suddenly even as he sang he saw a maiden walking on a greensward among the white stems of the birches; and he halted amazed, thinking that he had strayed into a dream, or else that he had received the gift of the Elf-minstrels, who can make the things of which they sing appear before the eyes of those that listen.
For [he] had been singing a part of the Lay of Lúthien which tells of the meeting of Lúthien and Beren in the forest of Neldoreth. And behold! there Lúthien walked before his eyes in Rivendell, clad in a mantle of silver and blue, fair as the twilight in Elven-home; her dark hair strayed in a sudden wind, and her brows were bound with gems like stars.”1
Estel, Aragorn, Arathorn’s son, Isildur’s heir, Lord of the Dúnedain, had found his enduring passion.
~*~*~ finis ~*~*~
1 —J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, Appendix A, “The Tale of Aragorn and Arwen”
To be continued in the sequel ‘Learning the Game'
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