Title: Through the Ages
Author: Mawgy
Beta: Naresha + Mum (Thanks guys!)
Dedicated to my Boney Arse *winks* *sheep*
Rated: R
Genre: Ansgt, AU
Warnings: Ummm, Sexual assault! Please do not read if you are not old enough or won’t be able to handle such a theme!
Pairing: (eventually) Erestor/Glorfindel
Summary: This fic follows the somewhat sordid lives of Erestor and Glorfindel from their childhood in Gondolin to their re-acquaintance in Imladris. Glorfindel is a Lord much like in medieval times and has power over everything and everyone, and Erestor, a lowly peasant.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no money from this story… I just like to play with other people’s toys. ;)
AN: Like it says above, this is an R rated chapter with content of non-con and sexual assault. Please note this now and be aware of your own likes or dislikes of these issues before continuing on. If you choose to read even if it squicks you out then I take no blame for your own lack of judgement.
Chapter 13
The next day Erestor worked on in silence, completing by lunchtime all the tasks given to him that supposedly would take all week. Erestor went to his supervisor but it proved useless as he was pre-occupied with some servant. He refused to go to Glorfindel for more work after last night’s debacle, and no doubt tonight’s repeat performance. Instead he decided to spend the rest of the day in the library, sorting various books, but also browsing a few to read at his leisure later.
Taking one back to his office, Erestor became so engrossed with the erotic tales of pirates and their captured bounty that he was surprised when a servant entered his office without permission, seeking to clean the room. Looking outside he saw dusk had arrived and the scent of food wafted upon the air. Taking flight, Erestor rushed past the cleaner without a word and ran to Glorfindel’s chamber.
Skidding to a stop outside the doors, Erestor paused long enough for his breath to calm somewhat, though he was still panting heavily when he knocked on the doors.
Glorfindel abruptly opened the doors, as though he had been waiting for the scribe for sometime.
“I was starting to think you would not come,” he said in a most displeased tone.
Erestor’s heart missed a beat at the barely restrained anger blazing beneath Glorfindel’s words and eyes.
“I am sorry, my Lord,” he bowed, “I was distracted and lost track of time.”
The blonde’s jaw clenched then his head nodded once stiffly before he moved aside for Erestor to enter. Erestor, not wanting to displease Glorfindel further this eve, moved swiftly into the room and stopped near to the Lord.
“I thought I ripped that robe beyond repair last night and sent new ones to your room today?” Glorfindel said, standing near the door, but it was now closed.
“Ahh, did you? I am sorry, I have not been to my rooms all day. Though the one I wore yesterday was brown, if you will remember? This one is a murky green,” he explained politely.
“Just how many of those things did your father buy you?”
“Three, my Lord.”
“Well ten new, better ones, should now be in your room. From now on you shall wear only them and be sure to burn *these* ones tonight,” Glorfindel said, pinching at the sleeve of Erestor’s robe.
“Please my Lord, my father gave these to me for my begetting day. I swear I shall wear them in your company no longer, but I do not wish to discredit his gift so.”
Glorfindel’s eyes narrowed at Erestor’s defiance, but he eventually gave in. “Fine, you may keep the remaining two, but should I see you in either, I will order you never to wear anything again!”
Erestor’s eyes widened at the threat and he lowered his head in a small acceptance of the command. “Y-yes, m-m-my Lord,” he stuttered.
Seeing Erestor’s submissive stance, Glorfindel’s lips curved upwards slightly. Moving closer to Erestor, he lightly ran the back of his index finger down a silky soft cheek. Erestor’s skin broke out in goosebumps lightly shuddering at the other’s closeness and touch. Taking another step, their chests now touching, Glorfindel’s hand moved to brush a wisp of hair, dangling near Erestor’s jaw line, but the sound of a door opening and a harsh clearing of the throat behind them stopped all seductive movements.
“What would you like me to do with the meal, sir?” Secar asked almost scornfully.
“Re-heat it and call us when it is ready,” Glorfindel ordered.
The butler bowed and left the room, re-entering the bedroom.
“Drink?” Glorfindel offered, finding the mood thoroughly broken.
“Yes please,” Erestor replied, grateful for the change.
“Have a seat,” Glorfindel said casually as he walked to the drinks cabinet.
Erestor gingerly sat on the couch, taking the glass the blonde gave him not long after.
“Thankyou,” he said, and took a small sip.
“Do you like it?” Glorfindel asked, flopping down on the lounge next to Erestor.
“I am unfamiliar with wines, but it is sufficient enough,” Erestor answered as politely and honestly as possible.
“It is the most expensive and extravagant wine that money can buy, and you say it is ‘sufficient’!” Glorfindel roared with laughter, startling Erestor somewhat. “You are right, of course, I care not for wine myself, but when dining with company it is the usual beverage served. But no… I like ale. Much more delicious and takes half as much to lose one’s senses! Have you ever done that, Erestor? Drunk so much you lose your sense of self?”
“No, I have not.”
“Mmmm… You should try it sometime. It can do wonders to help one loosen up…” Glorfindel spoke seductively, inching closer to Erestor until he pressed his face into the scribe’s neck and inhaled the other’s scent deeply. “You smell wonderful… What soap do you use?”
“It is unscented,” Erestor answered stonily, his face boldly facing forwards.
“Remind me to send you a lifetime’s supply of soap and hair oils… I want you smelling this way forever.” A hand comfortably rested on Erestor’s thigh while an arm, minus its glass, wrapped around the slim shoulders. “Are you scared of me?”
“No.”
“Then why has your breath sped up?”
“It has not,” Erestor resolutely answered, knowing himself it was a lie.
“Please, there is nothing to fear… just a quiet meal followed by a pleasant between-the-sheets activity, shared by two childhood acquaintances and then you can go back to your room. That does not sound so bad, does it?”
“…”
“Does it?” Glorfindel asked again, his hand clenching into Erestor’s thigh.
“No my Lord! It does not!” Erestor answered immediately, his face wincing from the pain. The hand loosened its grip and gently began rubbing the sore leg, almost apologetically.
“I am so glad you agree…” Glorfindel smiled thinly and began toying with the tips of Erestor’s ears, one with one hand and the other with his tongue. Erestor shuddered at the enchanting sensations but tried to pull away from them nonetheless, unfamiliar and powerful as they were. “Shhh, it is alright,” Glorfindel cooed, his other hand now travelling up high along Erestor’s inner thigh.
“No…” Erestor simpered as shivers of expectations ran up and down his spine.
“You can’t sto-” Glorfindel was cut off by a throat clearing behind them once more.
“Your dinner is served,” Secar announced, bowing low. “Is there anything else I can do this night?”
“No no,” Glorfindel said roughly, hesitantly standing. “You are excused.” The butler bowed again and left the blonde’s chambers. “Come,” he held out a hand for Erestor, which the scribe obligingly took and stood from the couch. Walking around the furniture, Erestor followed Glorfindel’s hand gesture and entered the bedroom. To the side of the bed was a small table, laden down with food and two chairs were placed at either end. It was obvious from the make-shift dining table that Glorfindel rarely took his meals in his rooms, and therefore had no need of a proper one. Although Erestor found it strange he did not have one ‘just in case’.
Glorfindel rounded the table and pulled out a chair for Erestor to sit in. Feeling little more than an Elleth on her first date, he grudgingly walked to the seat and sat down, half expecting the chair to be pulled out from under him. However, his bottom connected firmly with the wood and he half sighed in relief and placed his still-held glass of wine on the table. Then, for some strange reason, Glorfindel leant down and placed a quick kiss to Erestor’s cheek before taking his own seat on the other side of the table.
“Not that it matters, but I do hope you do not mind eating in my bedroom. I find the setting more intimate and will be less cumbersome in regards to travelling after the meal,” Glorfindel said, lust building upon his face already.
Erestor said nothing but nodded slowly, busy gazing at the spread. Looking up from all the various types of food, Erestor noticed Glorfindel had placed him, inadvertently or not, with a view of not only the Golden Lord, but also of his massive bed in the background, forever looming over the warrior as a reminder of what was yet to come.
“I did not know what you liked, so I had chef make nearly everything,” Glorfindel said, inwardly smirking at Erestor’s discouraged and distracted gaze.
The scribe’s eyes tracked back to Glorfindel and nodded once to give his understanding.
“Tuck in,” the blonde urged.
Sweeping his eyes over the foods again, Erestor decided first to have something simple, such as grapes, celery sticks and mango slices.
Glorfindel watched carefully as Erestor ate like a sparrow, forgetting to eat himself as he was lost gazing at the scribe’s mouth deliciously opening to encase the fruit, then the luscious lips closed over it again, a hint of tongue showing in between. And then, the whole routine started over again. He was mesmerised by the almost obscene religious experience between Erestor and his food being displayed openly before him. The small mouth and pouty lips opening and closing, the cavern beyond filling with food each time before the strong jaw took over and began seductively moving so that the skin stretched over the bone. Next, Erestor would swallow, the sound of gulping was barely heard, as was the food passing down his neck seen.
So taken in was Glorfindel by the repeated actions that he did not notice when they stopped nor that Erestor was warily looking at him.
“Are you not to partake in this meal?” Erestor eventually asked, hoping to divert Glorfindel's gaze to his eyes, rather than near his mouth.
“Yes, just wanting to make sure you were enjoying it first,” he easily shrugged off the awkward moment. “So, Erestor, how are you finding your new surroundings?”
“Very fine, thankyou. I enjoy the quietness of my office, but miss the companionship of my colleagues, to tell the truth.” Erestor was not sure why he mentioned his loneliness, but couldn’t take it back now.
“I shall make it a point to visit you more often then,” Glorfindel smiled around a piece of veal.
Erestor smiled in what he hoped to be an encouraging way but was inwardly kicking himself.
“How was your first full day of work?”
“It was pleasant enough.”
“Not too long? Boring? Hard? Uneventful?”
“Umm… I enjoyed it as much as one can enjoy work,” Erestor answered, not sure what Glorfindel wanted to hear.
“Really? I find all that studious work as dull as watching the grass grow. How you can stand it I will never know, but I suppose someone has to do it. And you are hardly suited to be a warrior. Do you remember? The First year of Expert? When we all did various activities to see which future was best for all of us? Not that many followed the guidelines of course, preferring to do their own thing, rather than what suited them best. But I remember you… you couldn’t hold a sword to save your life! Though, when Ecthelion did threaten you, you seemed to block the move alright. But nothing more than that! And the instructor gave you a Hobbit sword in the end! Oh! That was a fun week, wasn’t it?” He laughed.
“Yes,” Erestor said irritably, “I especially remember you having to re-take the general knowledge quiz because you copied off Lord Galdor and both of you failed.” Erestor held his chin up high, not backing down, even when Glorfindel glowered at the comment.
“I remember the day we beat you to a bloody pulp.”
“I remember you failing each and every test ever taken yet getting top mark for it nonetheless. At least my grades were honest and deserving.”
“Is that why you came bottom of Second year Intermediates?”
Erestor narrowed his eyes and grudgingly took a swig of wine.
Glorfindel smiled smugly, clearly winning their little game. “You were not good with the daggers either! Even the daintiest of girls managed to master them! Though you were not bad with the short bow… a little more practice and you would be fine, provided you stayed in a tree during a raid and did not run out of arrows. Any more than that and you would be Orc meat. Of course, in most battles the long bow is now used and, do you remember? It was taller than you? You had to stand on a box!” he laughed some more.
Erestor pretended to laugh at his own shortcomings, drinking some more wine at the same time.
“Except then, you couldn’t hold it up long enough to notch an arrow, take aim and fire! So the teacher had to file down the box until you stood at the exact height needed to rest the bow on the ground and fire! And then what happened?” Glorfindel urged with a smile.
“You knocked the bow out from under me, I fell face-first onto the ground and the arrow shot out and almost hit the teacher,” Erestor replied automatically. “Could I please have another drink?”
“Finished already? Sure. Where did I put my glass…?” Glorfindel asked more to himself, looking around the room.
“I believe you left it in the main room, along with the bottle,” Erestor said helpfully.
“Aaah yes,” Glorfindel suddenly remembered and left the room, entering moments later with wine and his glass. He filled Erestor’s cup again then sat down. “Now, where were we? Oh right, re-living priceless childhood memories. Remember when you-”
“How was your day, my Lord?” Erestor interrupted.
“I’m sorry?” Glorfindel floundered, stunned Erestor cut him off.
“You asked me earlier how my day had been, it is customary to ask the same question once the original has been answered. It would be rude and remiss of me not to put forth the query.”
“Oh, well, it was fine. My father intends to step down as Lord of the Golden Flower in fifty years and is training me to be his replacement. Unfortunately, I would rather remain as Captain of the Guard full time for a while longer, but my father insists I start taking over some of the small duties now, some which include paperwork,” he said with a shudder. “Yet there are some things which are even more tedious than that! Today, I met with a peasant… some farmer… saying his family was hungry and had nothing to eat-”
“What is so tedious about helping a starving family to survive?” Erestor asked.
“Just the way he continuously referred to a new-born and three other offspring, expecting my pity because he could not provide for his own family. And this is a farmer! Tell me, how can a farmer not feed his family?”
“Perhaps he does not grow something which is immediately edible. Wheat or sugar or wool, for instance. Maybe he needs to sell everything he can just to meet the quantity standards of food put in place.”
“Explain,” Glorfindel said around a piece of meat.
“Certain food and produce are only accepted and bought from the farmers in specific quantities. Perhaps what this farmer sells is bought only in large amounts. Some of the numbers are so high that farmers can only sell one lot of the food each season and must live off the gains for the whole year. Should they even be a tiny bit under, their entire year’s worth of money is gone. The only way they can survive from then is by swapping their products with other peasants for food. Though for those whose foods need to be processed first this method is useless to them as no one will then buy their goods. However, foods accepted in larger quantities are most often worth the least. The higher produced an item is, it often means the work to produce it is less than something rare. Therefore, when paid for, not only is the item being bought, but also the amount of work put into it. Then, when they are paid little for their wares, people will work twice as hard the next year, bringing their prices down further as there is even more of their product. And so, some farmers leave crops unsown, to bring the levels of food available down and raise the prices. There is obviously plenty of food out there, but the people who truly need it cannot afford it for various reasons,” Erestor tried to explain as simply as he could.
“And how does this involve me?” Glorfindel asked nonplussed.
“Well, these incidences concern the people you shall one day govern. By then, these problems could have escalated and there will be mass-starvation and rebellions. You could be overthrown or killed.”
“Preposterous,” Glorfindel spat.
“No it isn’t. I mean, think about it. Peasants easily outnumber Lords, guards and every other status classified group in society, there could easily be a revolt unless something is done to better their position now.”
“Such as?”
“Well, take for instance this table. Here we have enough food to feed a family of eight for an entire day, yet it is being wasted now on only us two. Perhaps if you gave them your leftovers? Or had less cooked and only ate what you need. After all, that is all they want, the amount of food needed to sustain them each day,” he said in his most emotionally compelling voice, but his face remained blank.
Glorfindel continued eating, though his chewing had decreased to almost nothing as he sat there and regarded Erestor closely.
“And you said I could be overthrown…? How?”
“As I said, peasants outnumber Lords exponentially, should the situation become dire enough, then yes, an uprising could very well be possible.”
“What can I do to ensure this does not occur?”
“My Lord, they… *we* are used to living simply. We do not ask for much. Food to sustain us and our families, clothes, security… just being able to go to sleep each night and not worry where the next meal is coming from would be more than enough. It is not much, but would placate our feelings immensely,” Erestor lightly urged.
“So, you still consider yourself to be one of them?” Glorfindel almost scorned.
“It is where I come from,” Erestor answered steadily.
“But you are not from there any more and their concerns are no longer your own.”
“I disagree. Whatever matters concern my father, concern me. If something disturbs him, then I too am involved.”
“So if your father has a problem welding gold onto mithril, you shall be involved with that also?”
“A matter such as that is out of context for our discussion, however I would be concerned for my father and his plight, but I would not be directly involved, no.”
“You now receive six pieces of gold a week for your efforts, why do you not give them to him since your food and accommodation are taken care of?”
“I do! Or at least I shall,” Erestor replied, offended. “Yet one person having a little more each week will not help solve the problem.”
“Then what do you suggest?”
“See that wages are raised and the price of food is lowered and try to see that none goes to waste.”
“And how might I do that?”
“Talk to your advisers, make sure they understand your order and implement it. They will know how to make your ideas become reality.”
“Please! They guard the treasury every minute of every day, all week! They will not give up money easily.”
“They will not lose or miss it. The more money in circulation, the more that comes back to the palace. People are fed and the state is rich. Everyone wins and all is happy!”
“Somehow I do not think it will be that easy…”
“Well, no, I concede to that. However, once someone-”
“Someone?”
Erestor blushed, “If you start the transitions, others *will* follow.”
Glorfindel only looked at Erestor in a bored and sceptical manner.
Realising the Lord was losing patience; Erestor decided to try once more then let it be for now.
“Take myself, for instance. Everyone was in complete furore when I was to join your class and become an adviser. Yet King Turgon could sense all those years ago, that the Kingdom was disturbed and that change was in the air. He saw in me a way to ease tensions for a time. But he cannot do more unless someone else is also willing to stand with him on this, or else all the lords can rally together, say that he has lost the ability to competently rule Gondolin and will be forced to step down from his title.”
“Then perhaps one day someone shall help him, in the meantime, I would like to continue with absolute power. And now, given that you have not eaten for the past ten minutes, I can only assume you have finished? And so, we shall retire,” he stood and extended a hand to Erestor.
“No no! I am still eating!” Erestor replied quickly, his diversion tactic not quite working as well as he had hoped. Picking up his fork he ate some carrots, followed by a few peas. Glorfindel looked mildly miffed but also half smirked at Erestor’s sudden change from talking to eating. Dropping his arm to his side with a small sigh he sat back down again and watched as the scribe ate his fill. After all, Erestor would need his energy this night.
“Are you not to eat more?” Erestor asked as he once again noticed he was being watched.
“No, just waiting for you to finish.”
It was Erestor’s turn to sigh this time, and he set his fork down, deciding to get this over and done with.
Glorfindel smiled brightly and stood again, once more extending his hand.
“What shall you do with the excess?” Erestor asked, nodding at the food.
“Oh, I am sure there are some hungry dogs out there somewhere,” Glorfindel shrugged it off.
Erestor placed his hand in Glorfindel’s and stood from the table.
By the hand, Glorfindel pulled Erestor with him as he backed towards the bed. Once the back of his legs hit the side of the mattress, the Lord halted and tugged Erestor right up against him. Giving a small smirk, Glorfindel wrapped his arms around the scribe, then lowered his head and gently kissed the full lips. Erestor was rather taken aback by the almost loving kiss placed upon his mouth, and with some encouragement from Glorfindel, wound his arms around the warrior’s waist, even though the Lord directed them to his neck. The blonde smirked again, this time into the kiss, as he noted and appreciated Erestor’s small act of defiance and unwillingness to place himself in a submissive stance.
Bringing Erestor with him, Glorfindel fell backwards onto the bed, the scribe landing on top. Holding the slighter elf around the waist with one arm, Glorfindel used the other to shuffle his way around the bed until he lay with his head upon the pillows. Erestor was still unresponsive within the kiss and if he had not placed his arms around the warrior, one might mistake him for a rag doll.
Tiring quickly of just kissing, Glorfindel’s hands wandered down to firmly grasp and knead Erestor’s buttocks. However, that too held little joy through so much clothing, thus he slowly began to inch up the robe Erestor wore.
“Lift up a bit,” Glorfindel ordered.
Erestor grudgingly lifted his hips while his Lord pulled the garment up further. Lying down again, Erestor then raised his chest followed by his arms as Glorfindel eventually pulled the robe off him completely.
“Now take off my shirt.”
Erestor lifted his chest again and undid the first button on Glorfindel’s shirt.
Meanwhile Glorfindel’s hands returned to their previous position on Erestor’s buttocks, sometimes dipping beneath the leggings as well as the occasional roaming of Erestor’s now bare back. “And add a little personal touch,” he said, giving no further explanation to Erestor’s quizzical look.
Assuming Glorfindel was only ordering him to take a more active role in the proceedings, Erestor hesitantly opened another button and dipped his head to give a quick, experimental kiss to Glorfindel’s upper chest. From the sigh that resounded not long after, Erestor almost smiled proudly at having guessed correctly. However, that soon changed as he despised himself and Glorfindel for making him participate in his own degradation. The scribe continued his task of pushing the buttons through their corresponding holes and letting the material fall apart, each time placing a kiss to Glorfindel’s skin.
“Be bold, Erestor, do a little more,” the Lord said gruffly when his shirt was half undone.
His jaw tensing, Erestor lowered his head again and gave the skin a lingering kiss followed by a small lick to the skin. Glorfindel moaned and Erestor continued.
When the shirt was open all the way, Erestor lay down again and remained still. Glorfindel took the other’s face between his hands and pulled him up for another kiss.
“Suck on my nipples,” Glorfindel ordered, his lips still attached to Erestor’s.
Erestor tensed and broke the kiss. “Surely your slaves could do this for you?” he tried to defer the task.
“Yes, they could and have done so many times. But I want to see how you do it.”
“I-I have never done it before,” Erestor spoke timidly.
“Excellent, I can train you to cater to my tastes alone,” Glorfindel smirked, brushing the back of his hand against Erestor’s cheek. Pushing on the lithe shoulders, the warrior guided Erestor down to his chest. “Place your lips near to a nipple, the right, shall we say? Give the area a small lick to warm it up, then reach out with your tongue once more and curl it around the nub, slowly bringing your mouth to it as you do so and eventually place your lips around the nipple and gently suck. And use your fingers to tease the other.”
Swallowing his pride Erestor lowered his head but halted just above the flesh, staring it down as one would with a dog, contemplating what he was about to do.
“Erestor,” Glorfindel growled warningly.
Erestor flashed him a despising look for a second then lowered himself further towards the nipple. As Glorfindel had advised, he flicked it a shy lick to begin with, then did so again with more confidence in response to Glorfindel’s moan. Bringing his lips down to surround the area, he lavished it with attention from his tongue, and began to gently suck. One hand strayed to the other nipple and began toying with it. As with his tongue, he first flicked it with his fingernail, then circled the nipple a few times with a finger, then started softly pinching and pulling at it.
Glorfindel began moaning louder, arching his back and groping Erestor all the more, almost for support.
Erestor continued what Glorfindel demanded of him all the while thinking up a thousand inventive ways to kill the Lord and make it look like an accident. When he reached concept number 432, Erestor suddenly stilled, frozen rigid in place for a few moments. Carefully spreading his legs to lie at either side of Glorfindel’s hips the scribe then moved his hands to the warrior’s broad shoulders and pushed himself up with all four limbs. Looking down along the Lord’s body, Erestor swallowed as he saw the very noticeable bulge now protruding from Glorfindel’s leggings.
Glorfindel waited patiently and watched Erestor’s actions curiously despite his want to continue the proceedings and smirked when realising what the focal point of the scribe’s distraction was. “Would you like to touch it?” Glorfindel asked and before Erestor could utter a reply, the warrior rolled them over, trapping Erestor beneath his body. Grasping a slender hand in his, the blonde lifted his hips up enough to pull Erestor’s limb down between their bodies to place it on his erection.
Erestor immediately stiffened and pulled away, but Glorfindel easily caught the hand again and put it back on his penis, his own hand keeping Erestor’s in place. The scribe struggled, trying to escape the Lord’s grasp but Glorfindel was too strong.
Holding the smaller hand firmly, Glorfindel began rubbing himself through his leggings with Erestor’s hand pressed tight against his erection. Once a rhythm had been established of long slow strokes, Glorfindel made himself comfortable, lying half on Erestor, half on the bed. Pressing his face into the side of Erestor’s head, who resolutely stared blankly at the ceiling, though tears could be seen collecting in the dark eyes. Glorfindel’s breaths came out in puffs against the scribe’s cheek as the speed of the strokes on the Lord’s member were hastened. Erestor lay as still as possible, taking no further part in the blonde’s pleasure, hoping Glorfindel would find no additional use for him tonight.
Glorfindel eventually began thrusting. First small, controlled thrusts, growing into larger, harsher ones. His groans giving voice to his pleasure. The need for more physical contact driving him, Glorfindel’s lips started mapping their way over to Erestor’s mouth, sucking, licking and kissing as they went, albeit sloppily. Losing himself over to his senses, Glorfindel plunged his tongue inside Erestor’s mouth. There was no finesse to his movements, just the all-encompassing need to taste the scribe.
Erestor’s hand started growing numb. Glorfindel’s hand squeezed it tight around his erection while his hips and penis in particular were moving so fast now that Erestor was sure there would be burn marks on his palm when his limb was finally freed. His mouth was faring little better. No part seemed too deep or intimate to Glorfindel’s questing tongue. His lips were stretched wide over the relentless muscle that plunged, searched and ravished his mouth in no particular order or style.
Then suddenly Glorfindel stiffened and Erestor felt the cock beneath his hand pulse. The Lord moaned loudly into Erestor’s mouth. Feeling something warm seeping through the material of Glorfindel’s leggings, Erestor used the blonde’s weakened state to pull his hand and mouth away, gasping for breath as he wiped his hand on the bed coverlet.
Glorfindel seemed not to mind however, too overwhelmed in post-ejaculation bliss to care. Instead he flung an arm around Erestor’s middle and snuggled up closer, still lying half on, half off the scribe.
“Tomorrow night, it is going in your mouth,” he said tiredly, smiling. Next moment Erestor felt a dead weight crushing him into the mattress. Looking at the blonde’s face Erestor determined Glorfindel was asleep. Pushing at the shoulders the scribe tried to remove Glorfindel from him but the Lord was too heavy.
“My Lord?” he whispered, shaking an upper arm. Glorfindel gave no response. “My Lord? Glorfindel? GLORFINDEL!” he tried again but gave up, deciding the rest of the house would not be happy if he woke them up. After thinking 229 amusing ways to cause the blonde grievous bodily harm, Secar entered the room.
Erestor’s heart leapt with joy upon seeing the butler. But Secar appeared not to notice Erestor at all and began fiddling with the wood in the fireplace, making room for a few more logs to be thrown on. After that he began removing the leftover food and plates and moved them onto a trolley to be taken out of the room. Just as his work seemed to be over, Erestor gave up on craning his head, a desperate look on his face while trying to catch the other elf’s eye.
“Umm, excuse me, do you think you could give me a hand, please?” Erestor asked politely, pushing a little on Glorfindel’s shoulders to give the butler an idea on what he needed help with.
Secar turned swiftly as if stunned by the voice, his eyes settling upon Erestor almost scathingly. “Of course,” he said, his voice overly kind. Walking to a cupboard, Secar opened the door and grasped a blanket then went to the bed. Unfolding it he threw it over Glorfindel and his strumpet, ignoring Erestor’s protests. “There, nice and warm are we?” he asked mockingly then turned sharply on his heel and left the room, wheeling the trolley with him.
Erestor began thinking of ways to have Secar transferred to the armed forces.
TBC
Parmasambe
Library of Imladris
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.