Something Special, Something Sacred

Imladris, Third Age 2033

"You never discussed anything with him, did you?"

Elrond let himself into Erestor's office in the east wing of the Last Homely House. His tone was casual and conversational, even if his words were anything but.

Erestor looked up from his writing. "What do you mean? Of course we did," he said dismissively before returning to his work.

"Did you? Or did you tell him what you were going to do and he simply agreed?"

Erestor's brow furrowed. He put down his quill and pushed away from the large wooden desk. He looked up at Elrond with a resigned, but annoyed, expression. "What difference does it make? What was there to discuss? I mentioned it, he agreed, and that was all that needed to be said. You asked him yourself -- in your way -- last night, and he did not withdraw consent."

"Not withdrawing consent is not the same as agreeing," Elrond said matter-of-factly.

"It is for people like us."

Elrond scoffed. "Spare me, Erestor. You've written enough contracts and treaties to know better than anyone the subtleties of language. You also know that things not said can be just as meaningful as things that are."

Erestor stood up and walked around the desk, coming eye-to-eye with his former trainer. "Elrond," he said, chiding gently, " you were there for perhaps two hours last night. How much could possibly have been not said to bring you here in such a state this morning?"

"Let me ask you something, meldir. Are you enjoying yourself during your sessions with Glorfindel?" Elrond asked, changing his approach. He had felt something amiss in that playroom last night, as he was determined to help his friends understand that. ( friend)

"Of course I do. How could I not? And, if I recall correctly from last night, both you and Glorfindel did as well." Agitation was clearly beginning to show in Erestor's voice and in the way the Advisor began pacing along the length of his office.

"There is more to enjoyment than white stains on one's leggings."

Erestor froze. Without turning around, he said through clenched teeth, "If you have a point to make, then make it, Elrond. If you are here to accuse me of something, then make your accusation."

"I am not accusing anyone of anything," Elrond said defensively. "I would never try to interfere in your arrangement. I just want to bring to your attention the things that I have noticed."

"And now you have. So, if you will excuse me, my Lord, I have an extraordinary amount of work to do." Erestor still would not look at Elrond, but the Elf-lord could picture the resentment and contempt on the Noldo's face.

The Peredhel took a deep breath before continuing. "Why are you so angry?" Elrond pressed. "I felt it last night as well. There is a serious well of anger in you, and I wish I knew why. What in Mordor is going on?"

Erestor spun around, fury and sadness warring in his expression. "Nothing!" he roared. "Something! Everything! I don't know! I can handle it!"

Elrond held his hands up in front of him. "Talk to me, meldir. I can help you. Whatever it is, we can work it out."

"I told you I can handle it!" Erestor raged. "Just leave me alone! You are no longer my master, and I do not need your help!"

His temper finally bested him. "Erestor, if you do not see to this issue, whatever it is , harm will come to you -- or worse, to Glorfindel!"

Elrond watched the coldness seep into Erestor's ink-black eyes. "I would never harm him. Now, leave."

The Elf-lord turned toward the door. Nothing he could say would cut through Erestor's anger right now; all he could do was as Erestor asked. He paused as he opened the door and said softly, "I do not have to be your master to be your friend, Erestor. You know where my door is."

*****

He was tall, slim, and golden. The first time Elrond looked upon Glorfindel's fair face, he had been rendered speechless. But, while the reborn Elda was cunning and witty, fierce and loyal, there had always been a sadness about him that Elrond could not understand. Glorfindel had fought great battles, had protected his people unto his dying breath, but he was a lonely soul.

Elrond entered Glorfindel's office, a smile on his face. He saw a flash of panic in the depth of those lifeless blue eyes, but it was quickly concealed.

Glorfindel had become good at concealing, Elrond reflected.

"Good afternoon, meldir," he said, seating himself in one of the simple chairs in front of Glorfindel's large desk.

"Good afternoon, my Lord," Glorfindel responded quietly. "How can I help you?"

The Peredhel remained silent for a moment, regarding his Seneschal closely. After several breaths, he spoke. "I wanted to know if you were all right?"

Glorfindel blinked confusedly. "Aye, my Lord, I am. Why would I not be?"

"After last night's events, I wanted to be certain you were well." Elrond watched as color suffused Glorfindel's cheeks. "Are you well, meldir?"

"My Lord, I am," the Elda replied stiffly, shame shining in the sapphire depths of Glorfindel's eyes.

Elrond crossed his legs and rested his folded hands on one knee. "Glorfindel, I wish to ask if you are enjoying your private time with Erestor."

" Aye."

"Have you two spoken any more about a bonding ceremony?"

"No."

"Oh? Do you still wish to be bound in marriage?"

" Aye."

Elrond was becoming annoyed with the short answers. "Glorfindel, is something not right between the you?"

"All is well."

" Dammit , Glorfindel!" Elrond snapped, standing up and glaring down at the Elda. "Something is *not* right. I can feel it. That room was blazing with his anger and suffocating with your self-loathing! And do not say neither of you senses it from the other, you have both simply chosen to ignore it. What is happening?"

Glorfindel's eyes were dull, the passion and vitality that had once brightened any room the blond walked into was gone. "I do not know where his anger comes from."

"Why have you not asked?"

"It is not my place."

Elrond stared at Glorfindel. "Not your place? He is your partner, Glorfindel!"

"He is my master," Glorfindel replied immediately.

"I see," Elrond said dispassionately. "Do you still love him?"

" Aye."

"Does he still love you?" Glorfindel was silent, unable to answer the question. "Let me help you, my friend, for you are both treading a path I fear will lead to harm."

Glorfindel stood up, his back straight and his head held high. It was the first display of pride Elrond had seen in months. "We do not need your help, my Lord. While the offer is appreciated, it is wholly unnecessary."

Elrond nodded, turning from his friend. "I am here anytime you decide the offer is necessary."

"Thank you, Elrond," Glorfindel said softly.

The Elf-lord nodded once more, walking swiftly from the room. His heart was heavy with a sense of foreboding; something terrible was looming on the horizon.

*****

Glorfindel lay on the bed, his wrists bound to the bedposts, his legs spread and suspended from chains that hung from the ceiling. Erestor checked the blindfold once more, as well as the inserts inside Glorfindel's ears that muffled all sound. The blond's mouth held a large ball, preventing all but the intense, strangled sounds of pleasure and pain.

The door to the playroom remained shut this night.

Elrond's words had played over and over again in Erestor's mind over the course of the last month. On several occasions, he had found himself standing outside of Elrond's private suite, a hand poised to knock.

But, he could not bring himself to speak with his former master.

Each night, he returned to the bedroom. Each night was a new torture for Glorfindel. Beatings, bindings, denial, humiliation... abuse. Erestor's anger continued to fester, and his mind continued to concoct new and more glorious ways of causing pain to his lover.

Glorfindel was as eager as ever. His arousal was insatiable, and his ability to withstand even the most severe punishments that Erestor's mind could conjure always left Erestor breathless.

Tonight, though, was special.

Tonight, they did not venture into the playroom. No. Erestor had bound Glorfindel, deprived the Elda of sight, sound and speech. He had gathered his implements of torture about their bed and now looked upon the prone, hard, willing body of his lover.

Erestor picked a taper from the bedside table, staring detachedly at the dancing flame. This was a household candle, nothing like the low-temperature wax candles he used at the beginning of his intense sexual relationship with Glorfindel. No, this one was hot. He tipped the candle, spilling a steady stream of milky wax across Glorfindel's chest. The Elda writhed, crying out behind his gag and gripping the bonds of his arms tightly.

The Noldo continued to drip wax over the blond's body. He marked the pale, soft skin of the inside of Glorfindel's thigh with dark purple wax, watching with morbid fascination as the wax slowly slid toward the juncture of the Elda 's thigh. The pierced nipples were coated with bright red wax that had been treated with cinnamon oil, something at would cause a slow, steady ache under the hardened wax. He soon became bored with the candles, though, as did Glorfindel -- who, though he was panting and squirming with each drip, no longer shied away from the molten wax. Erestor set aside the candles, and looked over the various toys and devices he had collected.

He took a cloth and picked up a clear phallus. It was thick and long, thicker than Glorfindel was accustomed to, but Erestor knew his lover would welcome the invasion. Erestor crawled onto the bed, positioning his half-nude body between Glorfindel's parted thighs and gently touched the exposed opening with a finger. The muscle quivered in anticipation and a cold smile crept over Erestor's features.

The phallus was pressed to that entrance, and Glorfindel immediately screamed behind the gag, his thighs trembling as he strained against the chains. Erestor slowly pushed forward, breaching Glorfindel with the thick piece of ice he had commissioned to be sculpted for this occasion. The slick, wet shaft easily slid into the heated passage, and Glorfindel's cock throbbed and wept as his body was invaded.

Erestor's own length was full and pounding, but he would not rush this. He moved the piece of ice carefully inside his lover, staring at the shivering, trembling body that was deprived of everything but touch. All Glorfindel could do was feel: feel the hard, unrelenting coldness inside him, the stiff, itchy wax on his sensitive skin, the cold metal of the cuffs on his limbs, the icy runoff from his backside that slid down and pooled beneath him. He was a magnificent golden vision, thrashing as he was shown heights of pain and pleasure he had yet to achieve.

When Glorfindel's sounds changed from wanton enjoyment to pained groans, Erestor pulled the melting phallus from the cooled passage. He set the ice back onto the towel that he had laid on the table, and then picked up the small metal disk beside it. The Noldo turned the circle of metal around and around, staring intently at the design on the surface. This was a step that had come to him while he was sealing several letters bound for Mirkwood and Lórien. He bent over, licking a steady path from the top of Glorfindel's thigh to his knee, his mind debating what he was about to do.

As Glorfindel moved and whimpered, Erestor's need for release grew more acute. His body made the decision his conscience couldn't: he needed to come and this task was currently in the way of attaining that goal. He grasped the circle of metal with short tongs and held the disk of metal out, hovering it over the candle flame. His eyes were unfocused as he watched the flame dance and the metal heat. In his mind, he counted to one hundred, observing idly how the metal had begun to change color, to brighten.

He took the metal away from the flame and brought it within inches of Glorfindel's bared thigh. In one of Glorfindel's hands was a wooden block. Gagged, the Elf could not call out the safe word, but if he dropped the block, Erestor would cease what he was doing. With his eyes trained on that piece of wood, he pressed his personal seal onto Glorfindel's supple inner thigh.

The hand gripped the block tightly, the body tensed, and a howl of pain -- barely suppressed by the gag -- escaped his lover. Erestor counted to ten, and then removed the seal, looking down at the red, swollen wound now bright on Glorfindel's thigh. He cracked off a piece of the ice and pushed it against the burn, soothing the pain. Glorfindel became limp and his breathing was ragged, harsh.

But, his arousal still laid thickly against his belly, resting in a pool of clear, sticky fluid.

Erestor removed the ice, tossing it to the table, and quickly stripped himself of his leggings. The need to possess Glorfindel was overwhelming. He slicked himself with salve and reached up, pulling the blindfold from Glorfindel's eyes.

He needed to see those eyes.

The Noldo thrust savagely into the cold, tight passage. Glorfindel's eyes fluttered, threatening to shut, but Erestor slapped him lightly on the cheek. "Look at me," he mouthed to the Elda, and Glorfindel nodded once.

The blue eyes were fastened on Erestor's dark gaze, but they were unresponsive. No hint of emotion shone in them, and Erestor's frustration again surfaced. Even after so much pain, Glorfindel was not satisfied! He flexed his hips, taking Glorfindel as brutally as he could, but not a sound came from behind the ball in the blond's mouth. Erestor clenched and unclenched his fists beside Glorfindel's head, panting and choking on his anguish. Still nothing from those large, dead eyes.

"Do not look at me!" Erestor screamed, bringing a hand up to rest against Glorfindel's throat. He bore down, applying pressure to his lover's throat, cutting off Glorfindel's ability to breathe. The eyes, so blank only moments before, widened and a spark of anxiety appeared in them. Erestor pressed harder, moving quickly inside the now-hot passage, his lips hovering above Glorfindel's deaf ear.

Glorfindel's arousal was captured between their bodies, the fiction propelling the Elda closer to rapture. Erestor continued to rhythmically thrust his cock into the widespread body and to squeeze and release the pale neck, permitting Glorfindel to breathe for a moment before he was deprived once again. "I love you," Erestor whispered to the unhearing Elf. "You have my soul, Glorfindel. You force me to do these things to you!" He sobbed, clenching the hand on Glorfindel's throat. "Why?" he asked brokenly. "Why?"

But, there was no answer from his deaf, mute lover, and his release was quickly coming upon him. Glorfindel's muscles gripped him tightly and hot wetness spread on his belly as Glorfindel came violently, the sound of his cry vibrating under Erestor's hand. The Noldo bit into Glorfindel's shoulder, removing his hand from Glorfindel's neck, driving deeply into his lover. His seed erupted from him as he tasted blood on his lips, and a sense of loss and emptiness engulfed him, suffocated him.

This was what they had come to -- this was who they were now.

And Erestor wanted to weep for the loss of his shining, brave warrior.

TBC...