Glorfindel smoked extra fish that afternoon, not wishing to have need for fishing again later and not wanting a repeat performance of his wild companion’s hunting skills. As they ventured back to the cave, the wild one would romp ahead from time to time, call out for him using some sort of cat-like noise, and then bound back to where Glorfindel was on the path. Nuzzle, purr, and repeat. In some ways, it reminded Glorfindel of one of his hunting dogs, though this thought saddened him. ‘How am I ever going to be able to introduce him into civilization?’ wondered the golden warrior.
Inside the cave they went, Glorfindel depositing his sack of fishing gear and wrapped fish near their resting place. The furs and moss had been odd the night before; now they were feeling extremely comfortable. Nesting himself down into the softness, Glorfindel became very aware of the closeness of his companion. “Yes, I like you, too,” he mumbled, rolling onto his side. The constant nuzzling was cute, to a point. He doubted he would get much sleep if it continued.
The wild one let out a series of disgruntled snorts, then climbed over Glorfindel, and slithered himself against Glorfindel, pressing very close. Glorfindel sat up at once. “No, keep this on,” he insisted, groping about in the dark for the shirt the ellon had been wearing. There was a growl, and Glorfindel felt his arm being pulled back, and with a lot of force. “Fine, no shirt, suit yourself,” he muttered, repositioning himself so that he was cuddled against the wall of the cave.
A piercing whine filled his ears, and when Glorfindel covered them to be rid of it, the wild one pounced. Never had the blond expected such power from this creature, and now he was being held down in the moss by a pair of hands so small they barely fit around his wrists. He found that struggling was not the best idea, for it seemed exactly what the wild elf wanted. The growls turned to purring, which gave way to moans as the ellon rubbed his naked body against Glorfindel in any place he was able. Feeling himself become aroused, Glorfindel used all his might to knock the slighter elf from him, and then tried to escape from the cave.
A hiss of displeasure rooted Glorfindel in his spot. “Look, I really don’t want to hurt you, my friend, but I cannot give you what you seek.” Another hiss followed, as if the wily elf understood the words, and Glorfindel found himself backed into a corner of the cave. “Fine, you must rest sometime, no use in fighting you. I’ll just sneak out when you fall into reverie, and then back to the Homely House for me, and no more vacations, thank you very much, Elrond!” Glorfindel put his back to the corner, sitting cross legged, with his arms crossed over his chest.
The wild elf, who was panting heavily now, backed away to the entry into this part of the cave, to block Glorfindel’s path. He mimicked the position which Glorfindel took, pointing out his chin in imitation of the captured elf.
“You do that,” sighed Glorfindel. “You won’t-“ his sentence was pierced by a yawn. “You won’t last to morning,” he finished.
An hour later, Glorfindel was snoring softly while a lone figure watched him in the dimmest of light.
- - -
“Bloody hell.” Glorfindel rubbed his eyes once he gained his senses fully, and took note of the wild elf sitting in the passageway that led out. “I bet you waited until I fell asleep, then made sure you woke up before I did.”
Looking around, Glorfindel noticed that the sack containing yesterday’s catch was behind the wild one. His eyes were adjusting to the darkness now, and frankly, the thought scared Glorfindel a bit. “I have it now,” announced Glorfindel, uncaring of what words the wild one heard, knowing they were not understood. “I shall simply sleep again, and when I awaken, you will be the one sleeping, and then...” Glorfindel shook his head, realizing that in reality he was just talking to himself. “Nevermind,” he said, settling back against the wall.
- - -
Glorfindel looked one way, and then the other, trying to steady himself. The air was getting too thin, he realized, as he gasped for it. The darkness was blinding him, he convinced himself. The darkness, that was what it was.
He no longer had any concept of how long he had been held against his will in the cave. The dark cave, the cave of no light. Of no windows, of no air. The dank, dark cave. Glorfindel clawed at the wall, hoping it would crumble and show him a way out, but as it remained, it was hard and cold, and uncaring. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the pair of bright eyes, focused upon him. Watching him.
“You probably just... just want to make a meal out of me, don’t you?” spat Glorfindel, clawing again at the rock with no avail. Finally, he wrapped his arms around himself, shivering. Shivering against the cold, no, shivering against the darkness. “I want to go home,” he heard himself mumble as he began to sob.
Nothing was so dark as this, except perhaps the Halls. But in the Halls, Glorfindel could not feel. Not like this, not the churning in his stomach, not the aching in his heart. Not the need and want of light, of sunshine, of even the flicker of a small candle. But no, he was denied even this small hope, and again he looked to the only light, to the bright eyes that watched him. “What do you want of me?” demanded Glorfindel.
The bright eyes blinked, and the purring began. Glorfindel had not heard the purr in some days – in fact, after the hissing, he had heard nothing at all from the wild one. The blond sat against the wall, one knee bent and one leg out the side. As the purring grew louder, the wild ellon came closer, and Glorfindel grew warmer. He shook his head as the wild creature approached and rested a hand on his knee. “Please... let me... let me go,” sniffled Glorfindel.
He gave no protest this time as the wild one bent down and nuzzled his most intimate area. Strong hands tore the fabric away, and Glorfindel gasped as a gentle warmth spread up his body and down his legs. “If this is all you want, will you let me go if I give it to you?” he asked, not quite knowing the words he was saying.
The purring, the touches, and the warmth said it all. “Sweet Elbereth,” murmured Glorfindel, and he knew he was lost. He could feel the insistent tugs on his breeches to remove them, and a chill ran up his spine once they were finally removed. His hands were gripping the rocky wall behind him, so cold, so hard, so different from the warm, soft, body that pressed against him. “In the name of Manwe, what sort of spell do you have me under?” whispered Glorfindel, more to try to calm his own nerves than for the benefit of his companion.
