Months passed, and then the grim reality: Four left Gondolin, but only three riders returned. Erestor stood atop the tower with a small group which included the King, Idril, Egaldir, and Galadwen, who stood furthest away from Erestor. He had become used to the behavior – in most cases, he was either he was ignored, or looked upon with pity. Even his own parents and his eldest brother acted much as others in the realm did. His mind wandered back to his most recent encounter with his family, for while two of the riders were still too far away to be identified, one of them had unmistakable yellow hair, and this put Erestor at ease.
Following his daily tasks, Erestor found he had several hours of free time before a meeting that was scheduled with the house staff. He decided to ride to his family’s house, and see about the well-being of the family and the chickens, which had been a concern in his mind since his last visit. He brought with him a scroll with the song written for Lindir. While he knew his brother would be unable to read the words on the page, the fact that the song had been written out just for him would not be lost on Lindir.
It was Saeldir who met Erestor when he dismounted and came to the door. “Good day, Erestor. What brings you here?”
“Need I have a reason for a visit to my family?” Erestor smiled, but slowly it faded when his brother did not react in any way. “I came to deliver a song to Lindir. Is he free?”
“He is working in the fields.” Saeldir looked Erestor up and down, his distaste obvious. “I doubt he has time to see you today.”
“Might you give it to him?” asked Erestor. He held out the scroll, but Saeldir did not look interested in taking it. “I could return later...”
“I do not think that would be wise. Father will be home in a little while.”
Erestor looked confused. “Why is that unwise? I would like to see father. It has been much too long—“
“For good reason.” Saeldir lowered his voice. “Is it not embarrassing enough for him that you parade yourself around as you do, that you feel you need to present yourself to him as the whore of the Golden Flower?”
Without a thought, Erestor let his hand fly across Saeldir’s face. The older brother retaliated with a punch that took Erestor to the ground and left blood streaming from his nose. In shock, Erestor scrambled up from the ground and held his hand to his face, the blood flowing down and staining his shirt. The scroll rolled off and flew away on a gust of wind, bouncing down the dusty path.
“You need to go now.” Saeldir backed into the house and slammed the door shut.
Erestor reached up and touched the bridge of his nose. It still smarted, but the break was mended. He pushed aside these thoughts as a trio now joined them on the top of the tower, bowing in unison to the king before them.
Turgon looked first to the bowed head of Egalmoth, then to Glorfindel, and finally to Ecthelion. “What ill has befallen my sister?”
Ecthelion bowed his head. “We have failed you, my lord. She stole away from us during a time of battle. When we stopped our fighting, none of us could determine her whereabouts. She had secreted away, covering her tracks and her trail. It left her lost from us, and we searched and tarried as long as we dared before we returned.” None of the three dared to look at Turgon, and he sighed, not in anger, but in exasperation. He placed his hand upon Ecthelion’s shoulder and said, “One is lost, perhaps only for a time, but three whom I love as my own brothers have returned.” He embraced each of his captains in turn, and then Idril did as well, the last of hers saved for Glorfindel, to whom she clung the longest, before she followed her father back down to his own quarters.
The homecoming was happy, yet bittersweet, between the others upon the top of the tower. While Egalmoth patted his son upon the back and Ecthelion drew his wife into an embrace, Glorfindel approached Erestor carefully, having taken note of the hurt in the younger man’s eyes. “Perhaps we should go someplace private,” suggested Glorfindel.
Erestor nodded darkly, and they walked quietly back down the tower. When Glorfindel reached an empty corridor, he pulled Erestor aside and faced him. “Tell me, now – what have I done in my absence to vex you so?”
“Nothing in your absence. Twas right before my eyes.” As Erestor made an attempt to continue forward, his arm was grabbed at the bicep and held firm by Glorfindel. Though Erestor had grown and possessed an imposing figure, it was Glorfindel who was the larger and stronger, and he held firmly. Erestor gave one tug in an attempt to be freed, but the hold that Glorfindel on him had a different effect, and he moaned softly at the remembrance of their time spent in the sanctuary of Glorfindel’s dungeon.
Glorfindel nearly smirked, but his confusion made him hold this back. He leaned closer. “What is your fucking problem with me? Do you wish it had been Aredhel to ride in through the gates rather than I?”
“Nay...” Erestor pressed his chest up against Glorfindel’s. He attempted to glare, but his resolve was failing fast. “I am jealous of your maiden.”
“My maiden?” Glorfindel shook his head. “Are you drunk? Did you not hear the proclamation I made in the midst of Turgon’s court before I left?”
“Indeed, but I only have just recently realized that I am not the only person to hold your heart.”
“And who, pray tell, is this maiden of whom you speak?” questioned Glorfindel.
Erestor pouted. “Idril.”
“My niece?”
“Your... niece?” Erestor blinked. “Your—“
“Niece,” repeated Glorfindel. “My sister was her mother.” He let go of Erestor’s arm. “Her father – King Turgon – is my brother-in-law.”
“Oh.” Erestor looked at the ground sheepishly. “Oh.”
Glorfindel used a single finger to tilt Erestor’s chin up. “You were jealous.”
“I was.”
“I like that.” He leaned in and they kissed, immediately hungry for one another. After several moments, Glorfindel looked around and saw a corner of the room, concealed by thick draperies that hung from the ceiling and were tied back to one side. He reached down and cupped his palm around the bulge in Erestor’s tight pants, the same leather ones he had favored since Glorfindel’s abrupt departure. “Come with me,” he growled, and he half-led, half-dragged Erestor to that corner. The rope that held back the drapes was untied, and they were hidden away in the corner from any who might pass (though the noise from the moans and groans might have made more than a few maids wonder if there was a ghost in the room).
The rope was not cast aside, but held by Glorfindel as he took in the surroundings. There was a wooden chair with a padded leather seat hidden there with them, and he looked to Erestor with a grin. “Are you feeling adventurous?”
“I am not sure if adventurous is the word, but I know what I want right now.” Erestor pulled Glorfindel to him, and as they kissed, his hand worked its way down Glorfindel’s trousers. As he began to massage the hardened length he found, Glorfindel worked to remove the clothing that Erestor wore, the rope slung over one shoulder.
When the leather belt was in his hands, Glorfindel turned Erestor around and pushed him to the wall. In a second, he had yanked Erestor’s pants down to his knees, and gave him a half dozen slaps with the belt. Just as Erestor began to fall into rhythm and lean back towards the strikes, Glorfindel dropped the belt to the floor and continued to strip the remaining clothes from his young lover. “I hope you want it rough,” growled Glorfindel, “because that is what you are going to get.”
Erestor lowered himself to kneel before Glorfindel in one fluid motion. The belt was removed from the blond’s waist, and his breeches dropped down to the floor, followed by the loincloth he wore. Erestor stretched his tongue out and drew it from the tip of Glorfindel’s erection all the way to the root before he drew it halfway into his mouth and hollowed his cheeks, while his left hand curled fingers around the base and pumped it slowly. As he drew back, he looked up and said, “I just want you to give it to me.” He lapped the tip, in case there was any misunderstanding, and then stood up just as gracefully as he had gone down.
Glorfindel unfastened his jerkin, and next removed his shirt, until they were both standing naked before one another. “Turn around.” Erestor spun around on his heel, faced to the wall once more. Glorfindel moved around to face Erestor again, and he had with him the rope, which he used to tie around one of Erestor’s wrists. The chair was pushed up against Erestor’s legs, and Glorfindel crouched down and wove the loose end of the rope around the legs of the front of the chair. Slowly, he pulled it, further and further, until Erestor was forced to bend at the waist over the chair, his legs spreading out to better his balance.
The rope was wound around the leg and Erestor’s wrist as soon as they were in contact with each other. Glorfindel took hold of Erestor’s other wrist in short order, and tied it to the other front leg. When Glorfindel stood back, he found Erestor just as he had imagined – his legs were spread widely, leaving his rear end beautifully exposed. The crown of Erestor’s head rested on the pad of the chair, and he could see through the slats behind him, to where Glorfindel would be standing. Glorfindel ran his hand along Erestor’s back, and gave a smack to his ass. “Enjoy the view,” he said as he picked up one of the discarded belts and used it to give Erestor a few more swats before he spit into his hand and used it to slicken the tight passage that was presented.
Spying one of the leather gloves in the clothing strewn in their small space, Glorfindel picked one up and pulled it onto his hand with only a bit of resistance. One finger slid in rather easily, and the sensation pulled from Erestor a sound louder than Glorfindel wished to be emitted from their hidden haven. “Hush...” he warned. He found amid the clothing debris a shirt (whose, it did not matter) and wadded up the sleeve. “Bite on this. We will have time for your noise in good time, but not here.”
Glorfindel returned to where he had been, and glanced for a moment down at Erestor. The bound Elf’s eyes were keenly upon the happenings going on behind him, and Glorfindel made a show of slowly pulling his gloved fingers out and pushing them in after displaying how many he was about to insert. Muffled groans continued to be issued forth, and finally Glorfindel answered the frustrated sounds that he was hearing as he spat again into his palm and then plunged his length deep into Erestor’s needy body.
As Glorfindel delivered thrust after thrust, seen almost perfectly by Erestor each time as his body was eagerly invaded, he held firm to Erestor’s hips. A few times, the chair moved slightly across the floor, causing a few readjustments in Erestor’s footing. Glorfindel felt his body tighten in anticipation of release, and he leaned forward, arms circling around Erestor. Blindly, he felt his way, and when his fingers located the nub on either side of Erestor’s chest, he began to pinch and squeeze them, not only with the tips of his fingers, but with his nails as well. It created a biting sensation, and went right to Erestor’s groin, which had been pressed firmly against the back of the chair. As Glorfindel grunted and reached his climax, the full feeling that Erestor felt coupled with the sight of being fully filled worked him into a frenzy. He rubbed at the wooden back of the chair in frustration, but this was stopped after a few seconds when Glorfindel took Erestor’s erection firmly in his hand and helped him to finish, silvery fluid running down his fist.
“Do you think anyone heard us?” whispered Erestor once they had cleaned up each other and the area they had taken over.
Glorfindel shrugged. “Let them listen.” He stole a kiss and added, “I want them to know that you belong to me.”
