The Watchtower
By Aearwen aka Marina

Contact Email: samthase@aon.at

Rating: NC17

Main Characters: Gwindor/Finduilas; Fingon, Erestor, OMCs

Written For: Talullah Red

Request: Faramir/Éowyn or Gwindor/Finduilas.  I'd like to read strong, secure characters sharing some activity, or conversation that would bring them a sense of happiness, love, serenity, even if unpleasantness is discussed or happens. It can be any setting you can imagine - forests, beaches, cozy fireplaces, whatever.

Word Count: 3335

Warning: graphic sexuality & mentioning of kinslayer

Summary: Gwindor is on watch duty at night and catches an "intruder"

Part One

Lights were fading, torches blown out and slowly darkness came over the fortress. Fingon stood with his back to his advisers at windows, staring out into the darkness. As usual they were gathered around him. Elves, he trusted with his life.

His black hair flowed over the equally dark clothing he was wearing. His face stern, nearly grim. The older he got, the more his features came after his father. Sitting on the desk, swinging his legs and acting nonchalantly as always was Gwindor. A long time friend for who he felt more trust than for for anyone else. In an overstuffed chair Erestor lingered, his long slender legs throw over the armrest. His dark brown hair was just like Gwindor's only shoulder length and a strand of hair on each side of the head was twisted to the back where they joined. A thin leather band decorated his forehead. He played with one of his daggers.

In the large fireplace, flames snaked dying over the last pieces of wood. Amber chambers exploded with popping sounds.

Next to him Andoranu read are parchment role that Fingon had received earlier. An answer from a distant settlement, elves that announced they would not bow their heads to King of the Noldor. Balewath, standing behind Andoranu read with him and new, that Fingon would have to roll over them. None of them spoke. Long had it been that they had ridden out to show their dominance.

The elves that were next to dark ellon were loyal and each single one would have been considered dangerous. They were proud to be first age elves, not raised as weaklings lamenting over lost chances.

Suddenly Gwindor jumped from the desk. What might have looked plump on any other person was his grace. Ages of scouting and dancing had made Gwindor grow into a walking and breathing lethal weapon. No one could spin faster and hitting his targets deadly wounded with a variety of throwing knives. And from those in the room some had experienced him in battle or combat.

Erestor got up too, locking his eyes with Gwindor he said “I take the east tower tonight.”

“Then the west will be mine.”

Both elves left. It was close to midnight and both were on patrol this night. All inhabitants of the Fortress could sleep peacefully. No one would disturb their rest.

Gwindor decided he did not need any heavy armor of this duty and saw no reason to put on the fully body armored suit, he would wear in wartimes. Yet they were only preparing, but not active in it. He exchanged his light clothes with dark breeches, black leather boots. A dark grey tunic finished his attire before he threw the grey cloak over his shoulders. And stepped out into the darkness of the night.

Lengthening his steps he strode over the broad walkway behind the battlements to the west tower. He climbed swiftly up all the stairs and greeted the elf that had been on this post the last six hours. Gwindor knew that at dawn Andoranu would take his spot over.

He threw the black banner down the wall, letting it fly in the nightly wind. A thin smile formed on his lips. Had the banner been made from fabric it would make those clapping sounds, but it was woven from thousands of black downs and like a bird it was sailing in the wind.

Part Two

Gwindor blew out the torches and left only two candles on. That way he could adjust his eyes quicker to the surrounding darkness. Looking over to the other towers he saw that Erestor, the elf known as the hunter, had done the same. He accepted Erestor as one of the followers of Fingon, but did not trust him too much. Maybe his mind was poisoned by rumors and stories that had come to his ear, raising instant fear in his elven heart.

Erestor was known as cruel, mean and merciless as well as hungry for power. He was tall and slim, his hair dark brown. His steel gray eyes were piercing and his face was rather grim. Stories of his past had let Gwindor's blood go to curd and still when the ancient elf walked behind him, Gwindor could feel how the short hair in his neck began to rise.

And still he was proud to have the hunter within their illustrious group of old elves. Gwindor smiled as he watched Erestor getting into position on his post. Then he turned and pulled the chair out that stood in front of the rough wooden built desk. He grinned as he read the different phrases that elves had carved into the wood or into the wall, probably in terrible boredom while being on patrol. Two hours Gwindor just looked down from the tower, scanned the area, and observed every movement in the darkness. He spent quiet some times gazing over the group of elk that broke from the forest and started grazing on the wide meadows surrounding the fortress.

He looked down into the moat that was deep and impossible to cross if not over the drawbridge. And the waters were poisoned. He would never dare to set a foot into it or even to take sip from that clear but constantly steaming liquid. Doing so, would mean certainty of death. Erestor himself had created the moats and Fingon had clapped his hands with joy and had been excited when Andoranu had caught an orc on which they tried Erestor's magical brew.

Anyone attacking the fortress would have to get through the water.

A sudden movement in the darkness to his right startled Gwindor. Soundless he jumped to his feet and narrowed his eyes to sharpen them even more. Nothing. But he had been sure that he had seen something. Now totally on alert he opened the door to the tower and sneaked outside. Pulling his dark hood over the head, Gwindor blended perfectly into the night. Gray and dark blue were better a better camouflage than black and in his long years under two other elven kings Gwindor had learned to disappear even in broad daylight. Now keeping yourself unseen, was for him an easy task.

There! He saw it again.

Quickly he descended the stairs and pulled his fighting knife from his side. He stopped. Raised his head to catch even the faintest scent of the being he was looking for. Maybe it was only an elf, straying around, not being able find sleep in this moonless night. Maybe it was an intruder searching for death. Which would find him faster than he had hoped for. Maybe it was one of the guests, those mortals that Fingon had brought to the fortress.

After so many years knowing and loving Fingon unconditionally, Gwindor was still aghast to find a sudden friendship among certain elves for those mortals. He himself could still not warm his heart for them. Though he had to confess, that there were some females that managed to bring not only a smile to his lips but also to entertain him merrily.

And then he launched himself forward. The being was much smaller than him. Like a big cat he attacked from behind, his arms went around the small body. A muffled shriek was heard through the night when his prey realized that there was no chance of escape.

Instantly Erestor reacted on his tower having heard the noise and he stared into the darkness, watched Gwindor subduing whoever he had caught. He sharpened his ears to listen for the gurgling sounds of a slit throat, but there was none. Instead he heard Gwindor hiss and whisper.

Erestor sat down on his chair again. Pushed his legs on top of his desk and kept his eyes on his side of the embattlement.

Part Three

Her muffled scream only went as far as to his hand that was tight over her lips. She fought for breath. He had entangled her with his other arm. So long did she know him, so often had she touched him and he was so familiar to her. Never had she thought that behind his slender body, which seemed to be more athletic and lithe, so much power and strength was lurking.

Her heart was beating in her throat and when he tightened his grip around her, she gasped in despair. She feared for her life and also was surprised that he seemed not to recognize her. Of course she did not wear a fancy gown at this time of the day. After this heavy dinner at the Fortress, she had not been able to fall asleep. So, when she had after hours of tossing and turning decided that a small walk on the fresh air might actually help her to feel better, she only had thrown this terribly over sized cloak over her shoulders. Ever since she had arrived she had been surprised on a regular base that the clothing that she was provided with seemed to have been sewn for women at least two heads taller than her.

Wrapped into the cloak with soft slippers on her feet to protect her against the cold stone floor, she had sat out. Little had she known that the elves were on patrol at night. She had seen Gwindor on the tower and had put one and one together that he was watching for something. But that he would grab her, squeeze all air out of her and drag her into a dark corner, that was the last thing she had expected. Not in her worst nightmare ever had it come to her mind, that an elf could actually really be dangerous, deadly dangerous.

One of her friends had warned her and had told her wild and scary stories of the First Age elves. But she had always considered them sweet and nice and friendly. Once she had sat foot into the Fortress she had been greeted warmest but also had sensed now and then some cold hostility.

He let her breathe, releasing his iron grip just an inch or two.

“Are you looking for death out here at night?”

The little hair on her arms and her neck started to rise instantly and she began to shake in fear. Never had she heard him this way before. Stuttering she tried to make him understand what had been going on with her.

“Had someone else seen just a shadow shooing around during the time everyone is supposed to stay in their chambers, certain death would have found with a poisoned dart, a flying dagger, an arrow could have pierced your heart.”

Gwindor let her go. The elleth reeled against the wall. Her heart beating fast and the relief of having been caught by him grew large. Still they were in the dark corner and he suddenly pressed her against the wall.

Gwindor perfectly manicured fingers, tore the cloak off her head and his eyes flew open as he saw who he had caught. Her voice had been so shaken earlier, that it had been impossible for him to figure out who she was.

A small smile played on his lips. His mouth was small and when he opened it, she could see his teeth flash in the little light that the stars gave.

“You got two chances now. I might let you go and Erestor will shoot you from up there, fearing that you overpowered me,” to underline his words he pointed up the other tower, “or you come to my tower and stay rather safe and sound up there until dawn,” he tilted his head and smiled “but either choice you make, you will pay a price.”

The elleth's eyes grew wide. The expectancy of being hit by an arrow did not go well with her future plans and she instantly started to worry about the price she would have to pay if she went up into the tower. She tortured her brain and whispered “Gwindor, you are so different tonight. I do not recognize you at all”. Digging in the pockets of her cloak she found two copper coins, a leather string, some bee wax lip balm and a torn off button. “I do not have a lot to pay for my freedom or my rescue”, she mumbled and handed him what she had found.

Gwindor cocked an eyebrow, smiled and pressing her a little more against the wall, making her feel the warmth of his body through the armor and through her nightgown and the cloak he bent his head down and whispered into her ear “I will take this as a down payment.”

Finduilas was feeling totally strange. She had wanted to meet with him alone one day, maybe kiss him or flirt with him some, but being at Gwindor's mercy was a little odd. The heat of his body excited her and the combination now of his arousing closeness and the danger she had sensed seconds ago, made her dizzy.

Gwindor grabbed her hand and pulled her from the shadow to the stairs. He turned around, looked up the other tower. With an elegant movement of his arm he flung his own cloak over both of them and marched Finduilas up the stairs to the chamber.

Erestor in the distance narrowed his eyes. His elven ears had caught faint sounds though they were too quiet that he had been able to understand them. He wondered just for the blink of an eye what hostage Gwindor had taken. Then he got distracted by a movement outside the walls. And before the being had been able to rethink if it came closer or not an arrow had stroke the orc down as it was to take another step into the night, probably looking for food. Erestor sat down again, watched the forest now concentrated.

Gwindor kicked the door shut behind them and instantly took his cloak off and hers as well. Before Finduilas could even think clear, his strong arms caught her and he pulled her to his body, smelled her hair and kissed her.

Finduilas wanted to complain and knocked her fists against his chest, with little success because this made him even more interested and he pressed himself harder against her. And as much she wanted to run away, because this situation was so terribly odd, as much she suddenly gave in into his kiss and parted her lips. Wasn't it exactly that what she had wanted long, to be caught by him, to feel his strength, his body and his desire.

The moment Gwindor realized that Finduilas was giving up her fight he gave her a little more space, but did not stop kissing her. He took no chance to let her escape, if she would change her mind. Entangling one of his legs with hers, he made her lose balance and brought her down on the two woolen cloaks to the ground. He instantly buried her under his body.

For a short moment she felt scared again, seeing him so different than she knew him. And when he started to tear on his armor and his clothes Finduilas was not only still in shock but also a sweet and painful flash ran through her lower body.

“I desired you so long. Ever since I saw you the first time...” He whispered drowning her in another kiss that she did not fight. Instead she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I wanted to feel you, to have you for myself and was it only for one night, but you always were with the others, never alone... until tonight. Now you are mine,' Gwindor said breathless, kneeling between her legs and tearing more of his protective clothing off, and pushing his breeches down.

Finduilas was about to sit up, but he held her back and pushing her down again, though gentle but powerful, he realized that she only wore that night gown now and one slipper. Where the other one had gone, he did not care.

“Gwindor, it is cold here.”

“Forget the cold, you soon feel differently”, he panted, pushing her gown up to her waist. Finduilas tried to cover herself, even in the darkness she did not liked to be suddenly so exposed. But his hands caught her wrists.

“You got a price to pay sweet Finduilas. You are mine tonight.”

Before she could react he had her hands behind above her head, buried them in the wool of the dark cloaks. Finduilas shrieked when she felt something cold on her chest, realized that it was a blade. But her fear died down when she heard the fabric of her night gown part under the pressure of the sharp dagger.

Her breasts slipped free and Gwindor's lips found them. He licked them, he bit them gently, he kissed them and when her resistance finally totally failed her let her hands go. He cupped her breast and buried his face between them. Blood was pumping down into his loins and he would have loved to take her just as she lay in front of him. Gwindor scolded and reminded himself to a more patient behavior.

Though this was not easy for him, now that passion was raging inside of him and he felt her skin against his and heard her moans as he sucked her nipples between his lips. His soft hands roamed over her body. Sitting himself back on his heels he got a better view of her body and he soaked up every inch of her. He cupped her breasts and twisted her nipples, traveling down on her sides he caressed her hips. And being between her thighs the longing for her nearly overpowered his mind.

Making a last effort to contain himself he bent down to trace her mound and the hidden core beneath it. Dividing her folds he found a pearl which seemed to call him to rub it. And he did. He still twisted one of her nipples and began to circle her pearl. And the gasping and moaning that escaped Finduilas's throat aroused him even more. His elfhood stood proud and he fought again with himself not to rush.

He kept on rubbing her, traveled further down to stretch her tight channel that became moister with every stroke of his fingers.

Finduilas threw her head from one side to the other and before ecstasy took her over, she smiled and thought 'That price I will pay anytime for my freedom.'

Gwindor did not wait until the last moan had seized. He flung himself down and without hesitation he impaled her deep with one thorough thrust. Finduilas gasped and her legs went around his narrow waist as he started slow and gentle to pound into her. Though pushing her hips against him, she forced him to harder and faster thrusts.

Gwindor never closed his eyes, seeing the passion on her face aroused him to an unbearable level. She put her legs down to thrust herself better against him, grabbed his shoulders and dragged him down. Gwindor, happy about the change from fear to passion, let her do. As she screamed his name in another wave of passion, her fingernails dug deep into the skin of his back. This just incited him more.

Thrusting harder and faster against him, Finduilas made the elf crazy.

“More, more...” she cried out and he did. Turned her around, took her from behind. Saving himself from her fingernails, dug his own fingers into her flesh.

With a deep moan Gwindor released himself. Held on to her hips until the last drop of his juice had left his, spurting into her body. He reached under her belly and pulled them together down on the cloaks. Finduilas turned around to him and he gently kissed her. He took her face between his soft hands and was about to kiss her more when she whispered “That was only a down payment right? We got five more hours...”