Erestor stalked back to his rooms. Was it really so hard to believe that he could do something other than be an advisor? 'He seemed really calm about Ecthelion being with Lindir,' he thought. 'I do not think he sees the trees for the forest!' This really got his blood boiling. 'I will be damned before I let him get hurt. He is too sweet and trusting for his own good!' That decided, Erestor prepared for bed and thought about his upcoming confrontation with the dark haired warrior.
Glorfindel followed the gentle music lilting on the air from the nearby glade. Coming upon his friends, he flopped to the ground in the most un-lordly, un-elven manner. Lindir cast a questioning look at Ecthelion.
"Fin?" Ecthelion asked, placing his flute on the blanket.
"I do not understand him, Thel," Glorfindel replied.
"Erestor," he replied blandly.
Lindir placed his lyre in its case and began to stand. "I think it is time I bid you goodnight."
Glorfindel looked between the two elves. "I am sorry; please stay. I did not mean to intrude. It is not anything important."
"It is all right, my lord. If it is a quick matter, stop by for some tea, Thel. If not, I will see you for the morning meal." With an understanding smile the bard left.
"I am sorry, Thel. I do not know why I came here. I knew you were here with Lindir." Glorfindel looked contrite.
"Worry not over it, my friend. Now what is the problem?" The dark elf moved next to his friend.
"We always bicker. I love to antagonize him in council. He has a beautifully sharp tongue. Lately though, it is as if he is always angry with me. I have no idea what I did or how to fix it. I feel like I have lost my best friend." Looking up at Ecthelion he quickly added, "One of them anyway."
Ecthelion chuckled. "What exactly happened tonight?"
"Well, I was walking in the garden when I heard such sweet harp music. I knew it was not Lindir so I went to discover who it was. Erestor sat there playing a lively tune on a harp. As I approached, I told him that I did not know he could play that well, or that he could play at all."
The Lord of the Fountain wished he had one of those fountains to drop his friend in. "Fin, did you tell him exactly as you just told me? Word for word?"
"Yes," the golden lord replied.
Ecthelion rolled his eyes. "Think about what the words really mean. You inadvertently hurt his feelings. It is just like your 'best friend' comment. I knew what you truly meant. If you had said that to the councilor, he would have been hurt."
"But I told him I did not know he could play at all."
"They say you always hurt the ones you love!" Glorfindel sighed, pulling his knees up and resting his head on them. Ecthelion waited a few moments to see if his friend was going to realize what he said.
With a sigh he addressed the golden elf. "Did you hear what you said?" Glorfindel looked up confused. "You basically just told me you love Erestor." Glorfindel continued to stare. "Fin…do you have feelings beyond friendship for Erestor?"
Answering a bit too quickly, the Elda responded, "No! I mean I do not think…well. " He sighed, "Yes, I guess I do." Glorfindel hung his head defeated. "It really makes no difference. He sees me…or at least he did … as just a friend."
"Are you so sure? Seems to me Erestor's attitude toward you changed when I arrived. Maybe you are missing something." With that, Ecthelion gave his friend's shoulder a squeeze and left him to his thoughts. Chuckling to himself, he thought, 'He really
is clueless.' Shaking his head, the tall elf made his way to a certain silver-haired elf's room.
Coming to Lindir's room, Ecthelion knocked gently on the door.
"Just a moment," the inhabitant called.
Shortly thereafter, Ecthelion had his breath stolen away. Lindir opened the door dressed in only light sleeping pants. His hair still dripped down his toned chest. All the warrior could do was stare.
The younger elf's face lit up. "Thel! What a most welcome surprise!" The minstrel stepped to the side and pulled the astonished lord into his room. Closing the door, he said, "Would you like a cup of tea; or perhaps a glass of wine?"
This finally brought the elder elf back to his senses. "I hope it is not to late," he stammered. He could not turn his eyes away from Lindir's form. The sight began to send small pulses of heat to his groin.
"No, I will be up for a while yet. I hate to go to bed with wet hair. Come sit with me by the fire so it will begin to dry." Lindir motioned to the rugs set before a crackling fire.
"Tea would be nice." The older elf requested. Lindir poured two cups of tea and moved to the fireside. After handing a cup to his guest, Lindir sat on the rug with his back
to the fire. After taking a sip of tea, he set the cup down carefully next to him and began to comb through his thick tresses. Ecthelion sat directly in front of him, crossing his lean legs at the ankles. He leaned casually back on the sofa seat.
Lindir took another sip of tea, "Is Lord Glorfindel alright? He seemed extremely distracted; almost lost."
Sipping his tea, Ecthelion shrugged. "Well, he has some thinking to do, but yes."
"It has to do with Lord Erestor, does it not." Lindir's question came out as a statement, and the warrior just smiled.
The sliver elf returned to tending his hair. The movement of the smaller elf's torso as he reached behind to comb his hair had Ecthelion transfixed. Never had he seen such a bewitching creature, certainly none that made his heart race with want. Reaching up and over he placed his cup on the small table next to the sofa.
Lindir found a snare and began pulling at it furiously.
"Here," Ecthelion leaned forward to grasp the comb. "Let me help before you pull all that beautiful hair out."
Lindir blushed at the compliment and at the position he found himself in. He turned around to face the fire and scooted back until he could feel Ecthelion's breath on his shoulder. Suddenly, the fire was not the only thing warming him up.
Ecthelion gently worked through the knot and continued with the rest of the hair. It felt as soft as fine-spun silk, but it was thick like a great silver waterfall. The warrior found
his touches becoming more feather-like and the desire in his heart mounting. Without thinking about it, he pushed the hair over the creamy shoulder of the one he desired. The smooth column of flesh he found was a temptation he could not resist. Leaning forward slightly, he placed a butterfly kiss to Lindir's neck.
The minstrel tensed for a heartbeat before relaxing. He let his head fall to the side in silent consent. He very much desired the Balrog-slayer but would never initiate
anything. The butterflies in the minstrel's stomach were fluttering about madly as Ecthelion's hands gently kneaded his bare shoulders. A small gasp escaped his lips as the kisses trailed to the base of his neck. The heat between his thighs began to intensify. In the position he was in there was no hiding his growing erection.
Feeling the gentle elf respond to the kisses, Ecthelion grew bolder. Leaning Lindir back against his chest, he began licking and kissing the perfect leaf-shaped ear. Lindir moaned and relaxed further into the warrior. Gently snaking a hand around, the elf lord caressed the soft skin of the bard's chest. Encountering a rosy nipple, already peaked with want, he brushed against it; shivers coursed through the body leaning on him. Encouraged, he moved his other hand around as well. 'Aye, he is more beautiful than the moonlight,' Ecthelion thought. 'He can undo me with his wanton moans alone.' He did not try to hide the erection pressing against the writhing elf's back.
Reaching back with his hand, Lindir stroked the raven hair falling against his neck. This also brought more of himself in contact with the warrior who moaned at the sensation.
Throwing caution to the wind, Ecthelion began to work one hand down Lindir's taunt
abdomen to rub the firm thigh. Lindir wanted more…need more. This sweet torture drove him to distraction. All he could do was move with the sensual attack on his person. The growl that emanated from the pale elf when he felt the warmth of Ecthelion's hand
against his thigh nearly undid them both. Using the hold he had on the minstrel's chest, the dark elf slipped his hand into the soft sleeping pants. His hand moved gently and caressingly over the soft skin.
Stroking the thigh and joint between it, and a very
prominent rod, he nipped at the minstrel's ear.
'He will have me come without touching me. Oh, payback is going to be hell for him,' Lindir thought. In his fogged mind a scheme formed. 'Let him have his fun; my turn is next.' He smiled and let out a small cry when a strong hand fondled his delicate sacs. During his brief mental distraction, a second hand had found its way into his pants. Oh, the sensation of two hands fondling him inside the silken sleep pants had the minstrel writing against his heart's desire. With every movement, Ecthelion's shaft was rubbed and caressed to unbearable hardness.
Feeling the tension in the bardmount
ing, it was all Ecthelion could do to keep from thrusting in time with his desired lover. He began his assault anew, wanting…no, needing the minstrel to become completely undone. He was not disappointed. Pressing back and arching, Lindir came hard, calling Ecthelion's name at his climax. Slumping limp against the body behind him, Lindir rode out the waves of passion. No one had ever played his body like that. Despite his sated state, he wanted more. He wanted the warrior.
Lindir slid out of his sleeping pants as sensually as he could, using them to clean up his body. He turned with an impish smile and knelt before Ecthelion.
"Beautiful," was all Ecthelion could whisper.
In this position he was slightly taller than the older elf and he used this to his advantage. Leaving little time for admiration, he swooped down on the lord and kissed him breathless. The little elf poured every ounce of passion and desire into the kiss. He licked and nibbled until a gasp from the one below him allowed him to dance his tongue into the moist cavity.
With the kiss robbing him of all thought, Ecthelion never registered that the clasps of his shirt were deftly undone by nimble fingers. Leaving three clasps hooked, the minstrel pushed the fabric off the lord's shoulders and down his arms, successfully pinning them
to the warrior's sides. Pulling away, Lindir took a moment to admire the battle-toned chest. Running a hand across a rosy nipple, he smiled before attacking it with lips, tongue and teeth.
Ecthelion attempted to put his arms around the wonderful elf only to find his hands successfully trapped. He let out a groan a he felt a tongue dip into his navel. Clever fingers made short work of his laces, and as his elfhood sprang free, it was engulfed in the most intense heat. The warrior let out a gasp and a moan letting his head fall back onto the cushion behind him. He did not know when or how, nor did he really care how Lindir came to be lying between his legs. Lifting his head to look, Ecthelion nearly exploded right then at the erotic sight before him. Lindir lay on his stomach before him, his head bobbling up and down on the ridged shaft, his perfectly rounded backside swaying gently. How he longed to grab the pail globes and explore their deepest secret. "Oh, Valar," he whispered.
Lindir took his sweet time in torturing the trapped elf. He nuzzled the soft fuzz at the base of the shaft before gently sucking a tender sac into his mouth. The wicked minstrel brought his lover just to the peak before letting him come down a bit. Then the torture began again. Ecthelion's breath came in gasps and moans as his body was played like a fine instrument being strummed by a master. "Sweet Eru, he may be young but he knows what he is doing to me!" the writhing elf thought. Aloud he gasped, "End it,
please; let me come." Looking up from his little nest, the silver elf smiled.
"No." Lindir returned to the stimulation of the elder elf's body. A hand slipped below the creamy globes to circle the hidden entrance with a finger.
"Tease!" Ecthelion gasped.
With the wickedest grin that Ecthelion had ever seen, Lindir calmly stated, "Yes," and continued with his play. Yanking the warrior's leggings all the way down and off, the
minstrel began to kiss his way back up the taunt body. Coming to sit on the warrior's lap, he leaned down and gently kissed his lover. Pulling back to look the wondrous elf below him in the eye, the minstrel raised himself up and impaled himself on the velvety shaft.
Ecthelion thought he would die right then and there from sheer pleasure.
Lindir deftly undid the last of the buttons on the shirt and removed it completely.
In a blink of an eye Ecthelion wrapped his arms around his lover.
"You feel so good inside me," the minstrel gasped. He rose up and sat again, moaning at the sensation. Ecthelion supported his arched back as the minstrel began to ride him. Falling forward, Lindir rested his head on a strong shoulder. Raising his head, he saw the love and devotion in the other's eyes. Leaning up to kiss the tempting mouth, the gentle elf rode his warrior to orgasm.
Ecthelion thrust up as he cried out his lover's name. Clinging tightly to the sweat
slicked body, he began to come down from the stars.
As his breathing became normal again, Lindir pulled back and studied eyes the color of the stormy sea. "Stay with me tonight?"
Gently stroking the soft cheek, Ecthelion leaned in and placed a loving kiss on the kiss-swollen lips. "You must understand that I do not share."
Lindir smiled at this. Carefully letting the sated flesh slide from his body, Lindir pulled the elf of his dreams up with him. With that impish grin on his face again, he led the warrior to his bed and climbed in.
"I do not want to be shared," Linder said as he snuggled against the warm body.
Wrapping his arms around his minstrel, the Lord of the Fountain placed a loving kiss on the silver head and drifted off to sleep.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.