“So few of the competitors tonight have shown the grace and passion he has,” said Turgon, nodding to the warrior currently winning the final round of the annual wrestling competition.
Ecthelion agreed. “Perhaps if they knew this was more then just a test of strength, the others might try harder. If they had been told the honor of being placed as second captain was on the line, the competition would be fiercer.”
“That was the point. I need to find one who will always be so devoted, so focused, so determined. Someone like you,” added the king of Gondolin as the opponent of the competitor he was watching gained the upper hand, but only for a moment. “This match is over,” he said, continuing to whisper so that only his head captain could hear. “Tell me what you know of him.”
In the center of the arena, two elves continued their battle for dominance in hand to hand combat. It was easy to tell that the youthful blond would win. “He is Glorfindel, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower.”
“He is young,” noted Turgon. “Very young, to be a lord.”
“Aye. His father’s death put him in an odd position. He fought his uncle to keep hold of his inherited title while bearing the grief of his mother’s fading. He was, oh, not quite fifty at the time from what I recall hearing. The lad was an inexperienced warrior then. With a bit of luck he managed to fend off his uncle’s army and make it through those first few uncertain years. Now his house prospers and has for many centuries. He would be a fine addition to the court.”
“He is married?” assumed Turgon.
“No, m’lord.” Ecthelion smirked at the surprised look Turgon briefly had. Either an elf married between fifty and two hundred years, or else... “There are rumors,” said Ecthelion, and a boisterous cheer rose up from the crowd. Glorfindel stood victorious.
None applauded louder than the king himself. “Well done! Well done, indeed!” He smiled as Glorfindel was led to the royal platform, an area inset in the arena; an alcove that could be reached from a secret way or by stairs leading up from the games that went on below. Ecthelion came forward with the crown of ivy, placing it over Glorfindel’s brow. “What a fight- and what determination!”
“Thank you, my king,” answered Glorfindel, bowing low in reverence of Turgon. “It is an honor to be recognized for my ability, and an honor to my house.” He spoke loud enough so that many could hear, and share his words with those whom could not.
“You have a chance tonight to further honor your house. What say you, Lord Glorfindel, to the title of Captain?” A loud murmur arose among those watching. Turgon watched the mix of emotions on the blond warrior’s face: Pleasant surprise, pride, and gratitude.
“I will not fail you, King Turgon. I would serve you in any way you ask,” he replied, bowing his head.
Turgon grasped both of Glorfindel’s shoulders. “Then so be it! From this day forth, be ye known as Captain Glorfindel, and Lord of the House of the Golden Flower of fair Gondolin! Long may you live, and long may your house prosper!” The shouts that came from the crowd drowned the words Turgon said to him next. “Your service to me begins this night at the stroke of twelve. Feast, bathe, and be at my chamber doors before midnight.”
- - -
“You will be asked a series of questions, Lord Glorfindel,” explained Ecthelion as he took Glorfindel’s light cloak from him at the door, ignoring the young elf’s slight shock and seeing the other captain here. “Your answer is to be ‘Yes, my lord’. If at any time you see fit to answer in any other way, you will be dismissed. You will then stand, bow to your king, and leave. You shall keep your title, but it will be simply ceremonial. Do you understand these rules?”
“Yes, my lord,” said Glorfindel after only the slightest hesitation. He had nearly asked a question himself, but after reconsidering Ecthelion’s words, was not sure if he was already playing this little game or not. Apparently, not.
Ecthelion smirked. “You must answer as such to the king, not to me.”
“Why not, Ecthelion?” The pair turned to find Turgon awaiting them in the doorway to a side chamber. “Why must he address me with respect, and not you?”
“If it is your will-“ began Ecthelion.
“It is,” came the king’s reply. Ecthelion nodded.
“So be it, then.” Ecthelion looked at Glorfindel. “Are there questions that you have? This is your only time to speak freely until we leave that room again.”
“I have no questions. It is my duty not to questions my lord, but to do as he bids,” answered Glorfindel.
“Then come into this room after you have removed your clothing,” instructed Turgon. Glorfindel’s eyes blinked and widened slightly. Turgon challenged Glorfindel with a look.
After a moment’s hesitation, Glorfindel began to fumble with his belt, adding a hasty ‘Yes, my lord’ after prompted by Ecthelion’s cough. He removed his clothing quickly, his eyes shifting to the lightweight robe that Ecthelion was wearing. The king had pants on, but no shirt. It didn’t take long for Glorfindel to figure things out, and he took a slow, deep breath as he dropped the final garment to the pile on the floor. Exhaling and relaxing his mind and body for whatever was to come, he looked to Ecthelion. He had a question now- ‘Did he do this to you, too?’ – but the look in the other captain’s eyes was reminiscent, and Glorfindel’s question was answered without his having to break the rules.
Entering the room, Glorfindel found it to be Turgon’s sleeping chambers. The large four-post canopied bed at the center was evidence enough for that. Turgon was lounging on his back, his head propped up slightly against the pillows, eating grapes that had been already plucked from their stems. He had one arm wrapped loosely around the bowl, pulling the fruits out with his other hand. Glorfindel came to stand at the foot of the bed, and Turgon assessed what stood before him. After popping a few more of the fruits into his mouth, he motioned for Glorfindel to turn around so he might see his backside.
The Golden Flower lord kept his chin raised proudly despite the fact that two sets of eyes were scrutinizing him. Some signal must have been given to Ecthelion, for the dark-haired elf walked to the table and poured three goblets of wine. The first was taken back to Turgon, and the second and third then picked up by Ecthelion. He came to stand in front of Glorfindel, holding out a goblet to him.
“Will you drink with us?” asked Turgon from behind him.
“Yes, my lord,” replied Glorfindel, taking the wine. He drank deep; still breathing slow, keeping calm.
“You may set it upon the table when you finish,” instructed Ecthelion, who disappeared from Glorfindel’s sight.
“Yes, my lord,” he said, and tilted his head back to drink the rest of the liquid. He took the goblet to the table, set it down, and awaited further instruction.
Turgon had set aside the bowl of grapes, and had his wine in one hand. “Do you swear to do anything to protect this city? To keep its secrets and to keep safe its people?”
“Yes, my lord.” Glorfindel’s answer was firm, unpracticed but resolute. He would have elaborated, but this was not what he was to do.
“Do you swear your loyalty to me, and to do as I say? To obey my every command?” Turgon looked up to meet Glorfindel’s gaze.
There was no debate in Glorfindel’s mind. “Yes, my lord.”
“Come to the bed,” instructed Turgon. Glorfindel did as he was told. “Do you know why you are here tonight?”
Out of the corner of his eye, Glorfindel noticed Ecthelion disrobing and tossing his clothing aside. “Yes, my lord,” he said, for there was less and less doubt as the seconds passed.
“Then kneel.” Turgon opened a drawer of the table that was near to the bed as he placed his wine goblet upon the surface. From within, he withdrew a small box, and when Ecthelion approached, handed it to him. “Place your hands behind head and hold your hair out of the way,” he told the blond.
The second part of Turgon’s command seemed a bit odd, but Glorfindel complied, holding his golden locks up with his fingers threaded together. Ecthelion opened the box, shifted the contents inside, and placed it aside on the bed. Glorfindel just barely missed seeing what was inside as Ecthelion pulled a stool over to where Glorfindel was knelt.
“No matter what,” advised Ecthelion as he sat upon the stool and brought the box to settle upon his lap, “do not move. Probably best you do not look, either, if you can help it.”
“Yes, my lord,” he answered, whether it was necessary or not. Glorfindel felt a damp cloth pass over the skin above his heart. Closing his eyes, he first felt the bristles of a brush tickle his skin, and then after it was lifted away, a tiny prick, followed by another, and a third.
The temptation to look was too great. Ecthelion’s hand was steady, and Glorfindel watched as a quill, sharpened to a point, repeatedly was stabbed just beneath his skin and then pulled out again. A cloth was in the captain’s opposite hand, used to wipe the ink, sweat, and blood that on occasion welled up from the deeper wounds.
In just over an hour, the symbol of Gondolin that was worn on the skin of all her captains and her king now marked Glorfindel as well. Each was a little different- Turgon had one that was quite large, with wings spread and fierce eyes. Ecthelion’s was standing in water, one wing raised. In the mirror, Glorfindel caught a glimpse of his- an eagle in flight with a determined look, with the flower of his house in its beak.
“Are you tired?” questioned Turgon, snapping Glorfindel out of his daze.
He opened his mouth and nearly slipped. “Yes, my lord,” he said quickly before his tongue could stumble over something else.
“You should go to bed, then, captain. Tomorrow will be a busy day.” Turgon nodded to Ecthelion, who set the box aside and opened the door. “Thank you for coming this evening, captain. You will join us for breakfast in the morning?”
“Yes, my lord.”
Turgon nodded. “Good evening,” he said, and picked up the bowl of fruit from the table, looked into it, frowned, and set it back aside before looking for the wine.
Once in the hall again with the door closed, Ecthelion said, “You may speak freely now. Your trial is over.” Motioning to the pile of clothing Glorfindel had left, Ecthelion said, “I will retrieve your cloak for you. Are you... are you alright?” Ecthelion asked, watching as Glorfindel stared at the closed door leading to the bedchamber.
“I... I actually anticipated something else was going to happen in there.” Glorfindel’s eyes lingered on the closed door and then he looked back to Ecthelion. “I apologize.”
There was a slight smirk on Ecthelion’s lips. “There is no reason to apologize.” As Glorfindel bent down and picked up his leggings, Ecthelion added, “Something else is going to happen in there when I go back inside.”
“Ah.” Glorfindel found himself looking at the closed door again, hoping for an invitation back inside. It surprised him to hear it given so freely.
“Do you wish to... join us?” Ecthelion had yet to retrieve Glorfindel’s cloak, and the most Glorfindel had done was slide his legs into his pants, for the belt was still in his hands.
Dropping the leather strap back into the pile, he left the leggings on. “Yes, my lord,” he said with a smile.
Stepping close to Glorfindel, Ecthelion lowered his voice. “There are rules to this,” he said as his thumbs found the waistband of Glorfindel’s pants and pulled them smoothly down. “You are still the initiate this night; I will not let you take me. Perhaps another time, but not tonight.”
“I understand,” answered Glorfindel with a nod.
“That is simply for my own benefit,” smiled Ecthelion. “More importantly, no one takes the king. Ever. No one touches the king, unless he tells you to. Whatever he asks of you, do not hesitate. The reward for obedience is pleasurable; the punishment for insubordination is... undesirable.” Ecthelion searched Glorfindel’s eyes for something, and must have found what he was looking for, for he then went to the door and opened it once again.
“Thel, I find myself a bit drained from the events of-“ Turgon stopped when he saw Glorfindel reenter the room and Ecthelion close the door. “Thel? Is there a problem?”
“No. Quite the contrary,” assured Ecthelion as he began to loosen the laces of his pants. They slid down his legs and pooled on the floor around his feet. Stepping out of them, he kicked the garment aside. “I have invited him to join us.”
“Have you?” From Turgon’s voice, Glorfindel suspected that this was something new. The king was not used to having an extra elf in the room when he and Ecthelion were together. This was his only questioning of it, though, for he crooked his finger at Glorfindel, and the newly appointed captain complied with his wishes. When he reached the bed, Glorfindel paused, and then sat down where Turgon patted it. “You must have done something to catch his eye,” remarked the king. “Tell me, Ecthelion,” he called a little louder as the dark haired ellon braided his hair back so that it would not be in the way, “what made you choose this one? In all these years, we have had many fine warriors move up in the ranks; why now, this young lord?”
“Because,” answered Ecthelion as he tied off the tuft of hair at the end of his braid, “I like him. He lacks the arrogance of the others, and he has... potential.” Potential of what exactly, Ecthelion did not elaborate upon. He instead came to the bed with an extra length of fabric and handed it to Glorfindel. “Tie back those gorgeous locks of yours, or I just might be tempted to pull on them while I ride you.”
Ecthelion’s words caused Glorfindel to take in his next breath sharply. He gathered his hair hastily at the back of his neck and secured his tresses carefully. Turgon was standing up from the bed so that he himself could undress. “He is strong, and quite fair,” noted the king. After discarding his clothing upon the stool, Turgon strolled back to the bed, his hand straying to the golden hair. “Ecthelion is under the impression you may have done this before,” Turgon stated as his fingers wandered through Glorfindel’s hair and to the nape of his neck.
“Never with two at the same time before, m’lord,” answered Glorfindel, shivering at the sensations from the nearly innocent touches.
A hand cupped Glorfindel’s chin and brought it up so that Turgon could look into the blond’s eyes. “Have you always been the one doing the claiming, or do you often receive yourself?”
Knowing that Turgon had already perceived his excitement at this new, unexplored territory, Glorfindel admitted, “I have always preferred a dominant role.”
“Yet you will submit to me.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“To Ecthelion?”
“Yes, my lord.”
With a satisfied smile, Turgon bent his head so that his mouth was beside Glorfindel’s ear. “Continue to answer me with those words. It will be to your benefit.”
Glorfindel’s reply was lost as Turgon walked to where Ecthelion stood, watching the scene. The two conversed quietly, their looks of desire both for one another and those directed towards Glorfindel caused the blond captain’s heart to race, especially as the pair shared a long, slow kiss and kept watch on him the whole time. It was Ecthelion who broke the intimate touch first, and came back to the bed. “You have not been taken before, so I will be gentle... but not patient.” He held out his hand, which Glorfindel took, and pulled him up from his spot on the bed, right into an embrace.
The lips of the dark-haired captain sealed over Glorfindel’s. With hungry eyes, Ecthelion studied Glorfindel for his reaction to the sudden kiss as their hands began to eagerly explore one another. Turgon made his way back to the bed, a fresh glass of wine in his hand. “My, my, what a talented mouth he has,” observed the king as he watched Glorfindel returning the passionate kisses. “Take him to the end of the bed- I wish to have my own demonstration of his oratorical skills.”
Ecthelion smiled into the current kiss, and led Glorfindel as instructed. His hands still roamed over the golden ellon’s body, sliding more than once along his hardened shaft. Placing his hands on Glorfindel’s shoulders, Ecthelion pressed him down to kneel at the foot of the bed.
Turgon was seated with his legs over the edge, his erection spiking up from between his legs. “I think you know what to do,” he said.
Glorfindel had not meant to grin; it just happened. “Yes, my lord.” Licking his lips, he bent his head and lapped at the head of the king’s erection, sliding his tongue curiously against the slit. He could taste the salty residue there; apparently, this was not the first time Turgon and Ecthelion had coupled this evening.
As he became bolder in his exploration of the royal erection, Glorfindel took more and more into his mouth. When he began to use one hand to stroke Turgon’s length while sucking hard on the head, the king threaded his fingers through Glorfindel’s hair and coaxed him to come closer, to take him deeper.
Behind him, unseen to the blond, Ecthelion spent some time watching the delightful scene. When his own desires became too great, he poured a good amount of oil into the palm of his hand before setting the bottle aside. Tilting his hand a little when he crouched down behind Glorfindel, he let the oil dribble down the golden warrior’s backside and disappear as it ran down further.
Continuing to pleasure the king, Glorfindel widened the space between his own legs, arching his back a little to give Ecthelion better access. His legs shook a bit at the exciting prospect of what was to come- the thrill of this new sensation. Nothing had really prepared him for the feeling that rushed through him as one of Ecthelion’s fingers teased his opening, and then without much warning, slid within. Not knowing whether to tighten his muscles or relax them, Glorfindel concentrated on his own task and just tried to enjoy what was being done to him.
The first finger was not painful, but it was slightly uncomfortable. The second felt too tight, and Glorfindel would have worried that there was no way Ecthelion could manage to insert his erection inside except that he himself had done so to others in the past. Then he felt what previous lovers he had had often spoke of- the nearly blinding, sudden shock of pleasure. His outcry was muffled by the current state he was in, but he felt and heard Turgon chuckle.
“Thel, that just made me recall your first time,” said Turgon affectionately. He laughed to himself fondly as he recalled the memory, and then said, “Do it to him again.”
Time after time, Glorfindel was tormented by the sudden burst of uncontrollable pleasure hidden deep within him. He never noticed the third digit as it was added to the two already preparing him. His back arched even more, his eyes closed at the onslaught. When Ecthelion removed his fingers, Glorfindel made a discontented noise, but he froze when he felt the head of the dair-haired ellon’s erection press against his opening.
His free hand shot over to one of the bedposts, gripping it tightly. Slowly but surely, he felt the tip of Ecthelion’s length pierce him. For a moment there was no movement, and then Ecthelion slid in a little further, until his entire head was enveloped by Glorfindel. The blond grunted and shifted a little- his initial reaction was to try to expel Ecthelion from his body. He tried to relax and acclimate himself to the fullness he was feeling as his other hand reached for the other post.
“Do you want more?” questioned Turgon after sitting back on the bed, his length slipping out of Glorfindel’s mouth. “Do you want Ecthelion to fuck you hard?”
“Y-yes! Yes, my lord!” Glorfindel gripped the bedposts tighter as he was breached fully from behind, Ecthelion filling him with his erect member. The older captain’s hands found Glorfindel’s hips, and wrapped his fingers around them. As Ecthelion rocked back and then rammed forward, Turgon picked up the glass of wine he had set on the table and lounged back on the bed.
Turgon was sure that Glorfindel would not last very long, but he still wished to watch for a little while. Once the telltale moaning from Glorfindel increased in volume, Turgon returned to his former position. He took hold of Glorfindel’s neck and guided him back to where he wanted him. No words were needed to tell Glorfindel what to do, and in seconds he was being filled at both ends, and was enjoying every moment of it.
Ecthelion found his release, hard and fast, and after withdrawing he knelt behind Glorfindel again and took the blond’s erection in his hand, stroking him while the young captain brought Turgon to climax.
Pulling the blond back against his body, Ecthelion nipped at any easily accessible exposed skin, from Glorfindel’s neck to his ears and throat, until the blond thrashed, dug his fingers into Ecthelion’s thighs, and spilled his seed over Ecthlion’s fist. Glorfindel barely managed to clean himself with the warm, wet rag he was handed before collapsing in exhaustion into the bed. Turgon casually draped his arm over Glorfindel, pulling the blond back against him while Ecthelion gathered the half-drunk glasses of wine to the table and blew out the candles.
The dark-haired elf carried the last flickering flame to the bedside, placing it on the table. Crawling beneath the covers himself, Ecthelion purred into Glorfindel’s ear, “If you aren’t too tired, I’m up for letting you have a go at me. Would you like that, Glorfindel?”
A sly smile spread across Glorfindel’s lips. “Yes, my lord,” he answered, and he leaned over Ecthelion to blow out the light.
-End-
