Midsummer Heat

Title: Midsummer Heat (17/?)
Rating: NC-17
Type: FPS Erestor/Glorfindel, and Elrond/Thranduil (later chapters)
Author: jenolas
Disclaimer: LOTR belongs to the creative genius of JRR Tolkien, not me.


Summary: It’s Midsummer and Glorfindel and Erestor are in a particularly ‘frisky’ mood and learn something of great interest about Elrond.

Chapter 17/?

As soon as Erestor and Glorfindel arrived in the glade, a burst of laughter filled the air, aimed not at them but at a part of the story Haldir was currently relating. Glorfindel glanced wistfully at the merry group of warriors for as much as he loved being with Erestor, on festive occasions such as this, he liked to socialise with his men as well.

“Join them if you wish, my love, but remember to save a few dances for me,” Erestor said with an affectionate smile and earning a sweet kiss for understanding his lover’s needs so well.

“I most certainly will but you should know that several of your secret admirers have already approached me asking permission to dance with you,” Glorfindel teased.

“Hmm, ‘several’ you say?” Glorfindel nodded, eyeing his beloved with suspicion, sensing he was in a playful mood. “And what was your reply to my potential dance partners?”

“I told them that you were the one they should be asking, not me. I am your lover not your keeper,” Glorfindel replied. “I also might have mentioned that were I to see any hands straying in an inappropriate manner over your delectable form, one could reasonably expect me to remove it… with my sword.”

“Ai, what would I do without you to protect me from such treacherous elves? Fade from a broken heart,” Erestor spoke sombrely with a glistening tear in his eye as he answered his own question.

“That does not even bear thinking about, my love,” Glorfindel said as he crushed his advisor close against his chest and held him lovingly for a few precious moments.

“This is nice, but be off with you and have your fun!”

“Not just yet. But what will you do?”

“Since you mentioned swords, I have a sudden urge to seek out Haldir and thank him for tutoring you in swordplay. He did only describe that delicious technique to you I trust?” Erestor teased his voice now deep and menacing as he feigned suspision. He doubted he would belive Gorfindel even if he admitted to an indiscretion.

“I believe some of my warriors would have liked to have been treated to a demonstration, and I admit it was a rather tempting invitation at the time, but for some reason, he refused,” Glorfindel told Erestor with a smile that spoke of the kind of mischief the Balrog slayer enjoyed making on occasion.

“Probably because he sensed it was the wine speaking and not you.Maybe he questioned your ability to perform?”

“Erestor! You know I never have a problem in that regard,” Glorfindel said, his eyes twinkling with amusement as his lover actually blushed.

“Haldir is honourable as well as attractive, so no wonder Perion is besotted with him, these are the traits the old steward would admire,” Erestor replied, changing the subject.

“Indeed. Look, I see Elrond and Thranduil have arrived,” Glorfindel said with a faint trace of admiration his voice for the regal grace of the Elvenking who looked no less powerful and beautiful in the simple shirt and leggings he wore than he did in his most formal robes. His golden hair was unbraided and adorned with a crown of freshly picked flowers that were interwoven with the thin vine of green leaves. His eyes sparkled with anticipation but whether it was for the pleasure he and his lover would surely indulge in later or simply delight in the evening’s merrymaking, it was beyond Erestor to decide. He also wondered how many had stopped in their tracks to watch the two rulers walk past. Their demeanour was schooled and they gave no one the impression that they were anything other than friends,

“You find him attractive, do you not?” Glorfindel asked, a tiny flame of jealousy flickering in his eyes as he inclined his head towards Thranduil who had stopped several tables away to speak with his guards who, like many others had already begun celebrating several hours ago.

“He is rather pleasing to the eye, especially if one is fond of golden haired elves,” Erestor agreed, not realising his words were rousing Glorfindel’s possessiveness.

“You certainly seem taken by them; I suppose you think Haldir and Celeborn to be fair as well?” The seneschal asked as he drew his lover into a strong embrace, and almost crushing him in his desire to hold him as close as possible.

“Their hair is actually more silver than gold, but aye, they are both exceedingly handsome,” Erestor said, feeling Glorfindel tense in his arms in the same moment that he felt a brief pain in his heart that was an echo of the hurt on his lover’ s face. He captured the in his hands and gazed deeply into the shining blue depths of his eyes. “Ai, my handsome one, I am sorry. I did not mean to upset you. Do you not know by now that you are the only golden haired elf I will ever be taken by? That the beauty of the most radiant elf is but a dull glow compared to that whish you wear on your face and shines in your heart?”

“You are beautiful, too Erestor, within and without,” Glorfindel whispered against his lover’s lips before claiming them in long lingering kiss. As their mutual desire took hold, they became so lost in each other that they forgot that they were standing in full view of everyone until several they heard loud cheering and applause coming from the tables around which some of Glorfindel’s warriors and, surprisingly one or two of Erestor’s apprentice scribes were sitting.

“We seem to be quite popular,” Erestor commented dryly as they walked over to join the king and Elrond at the table they had chosen because it was set well apart from the main dance floor, if a large circular patch of flattened grass could be rightly called such.

“Aye, I did not realise we were to be the evening’s entertainment,” Glorfindel said as he poured Erestor and himself some wine.

“I daresay you will remain so unless you can manage to keep your hands and lips off one another,” Thranduil said his words eliciting a burst of laughter from the others.

“Ai, our other honoured guests have finally arrived, and the festivities can begin,” Elrond said raising his voice slightly so that the serving maids would heed his permission to begin the banquet.

“You are looking lovely, if not plainly dressed tonight, Galadriel,” Glorfindel said, forgoing tact in favour of speaking the words the others were thinking. Erestor had told him about her matchmaking plans and he was determined that she should not interfere in Elrond’s life in such a manner.

“This is the common garb of a lady of Lothlorien who wishes to dance the night away. True the gown could use more colour, but I an am very fond of dancing, and I always wear these clothes to our festivals. Besides are you not also dressed in simple clothes for the same reason?” she enquired.

“Aye, but you are lovely no matter what you wear,” was all Glorfindel said, flirting shamelssy and kissing Galdriel’s cheek.

“Speaking of dances, have I your leave to choose another partner for our traditional dance later this evening?” Haldir asked Celeborn as he approached the table with the fingers of one hand firmly entwined with Perion’s.

“And I would also beg your indulgence, Sire,” Perion said addressing Thranduil and bowing to show his respect.

Both Thranduil nod Celeborn agreed to the request band smiled with satisfaction for helping achieved at their friends’ happiness, but a shadow quickly passed across Thranduil’s face as painful memories came unbidden into his mind and he suddenly stood and without saying a word wandered into the woods to find some solitude.

“What is wrong with Thranduil?” Celeborn asked directing his question to Elrond, his concern for his kinsman apparent to all. “Do you know of what he speaks?” Elrond remained silent for a moment, but could not think of anything that had recently upset his lover.

They had spent a wondrous afternoon at the waterfall, laughing, talking and even indulging in a childish water fight before collapsing on the bank and making tender love. They had spoken of revealing their love to all, and although Thranduil now wished to do so, Elrond had still resisted. There had been no arguments or harsh words spoken for Thranduil had simply accepted that his lover needed more time, and had even made light of the fact that they had kept their secret for millennia, so a few more centuries were of little consequence as long as Elrond was happy.

On reflection, Elrond realised he was being rather selfish but could see no compromise. Either they revealed their love or they did not, leaving one satisfied with the decision and the other unhappy. He looked back into the forest where Thranduil had gone, and decided comforting his lover was far more important than raising a few eyebrows.

“I need to go to him,” was all he said as he followed his heart into the trees. It did not take long to find him, for he could feel his despair as if it were his own. Thranduil was resting against the trunk of a tree, and when he looked up at the intruder, Elrond’s heart broke to see his lover’s beautiful eyes glistening with unshed tears. Without thinking, he knelt beside Thranduil and wrapped him in his arms, whispering words of love and comfort as his beloved wept against his shoulder.

“What is it, my love? Please tell me what causes you such pain?” Elrond said as he kissed the tears away, a shiver of pleasure running down his spine when he felt the strong arms draw him close enough for his lips to be captured in a sweet kiss.

“Memories,” Thranduil replied as he settled himself more comfortably in the safety of his lover’s embrace.

“Memories of what?”

“Of the day a young prince and a king’s herald had their dreams shattered,” Thranduil said.

“The day Oropher stormed into my tent and took you from my bed, you mean?” Elrond asked his own heart breaking as he recalled how devastated he had felt, how lonely it had been until Thranduil had finally managed to steal away from his Adar’s guard and come to the arms that would never stop waiting for him. Thranduil managed a weak smile.

“Nay as terrible as that day was, there was another that was far more difficult for us. Do you not remember the Midsummer celebration at Dagorlad, the one just after Oropher fell in battle?”

“Aye, it was the first and last time we danced together, for you had become the king and our love was buried beneath responsibility and duty. It is not the memory of that bittersweet night that brings tears to your eyes, but the knowledge that it is happening again. Dawn will come too soon, to be followed by the day you must return to your realm, and the memories of these glorious days we share will only serve to make your heart ache for what we cannot have. Nay, not what we can not have, but what I am denying you,” Elrond admitted holding his lover closer as he suddenly felt the fear of losing Thranduil close on his heart.

“Nay, not me, ‘tis what you are denying us,” Thranduil said sadly as he turned to gaze into his lover’s eyes.

“Do you still love me?” Elrond asked softly almost afraid to hear the answer.

“Aye, I love you, with all that I am, and forever,” Thranduil; replied as he tenderly caressed his lover’s cheek before taking his lips in a kiss that was a passionate affirmation of undying love.

“We should return to the celebrations soon,” Elrond said, sighing sadly but making no move to leave Thranduil’s arms.

“Give me a few more moments,” Thranduil said, also loathe being elsewhere than in his lover’s embraced.

The final decision was taken from them when Glorfindel approached, making enough noise to warn them of his presence before he stepped out from amongst the trees.

“Celeborn sends word that it is nearing midnight and Thranduil’s presence is required,” Glorfindel said, not really knowing why, but seeing Thranduil nod agreement he realised the king must have understood the message.

They had barely returned to their places at the table when a rhythmic drumbeat filled the glade, and the woodland warriors and their partners moved into the dance circle.

“Come, Thranduil, it is our place as leaders of these warriors to also lead the dance,” Celeborn said as he stood and offered his kinsman his hand.

“And quite possibly raise a few Noldo eyebrows in the process,” Erestor smirked knowingly.

“What dance are you talking about?” Glorfindel asked, sounding a little miffed that he had not heard of it before.

“It is a dance traditionally performed by the Silvan elves to welcome Midsummer’s day. There are two variations, one for warriors who are only brothers in arms, and the other is for warriors who are lovers,” Elrond explained, as he watched with envy as Thranduil and Celeborn took their places.

“Erestor, do you know the steps for the milder version,” Elrond whispered as the rhythm of the drum beat changed and the warriors began the dance.

“Aye,” he replied, his eyes widening in astonishment as he realised what Elrond intended to do. “And not before time,” he whispered cryptically to Glorfindel, giving him a reassuring kiss before following his lord into the circle.

The veil of time lifted and as he approached Thranduil and he felt as if they were back beneath the black skies, the new king trying to hold the badly defeated Greenwood army together by allowing them to celebrate Midsummer in their usual fashion while his heart grieved for his beloved Adar.

Ereinion had convinced Elrond it was best to keep his distance and allow Thranduil to deal with his sorrow without the added complication of a lover, and for a time this had made perfect sense. However, after a secret visit from Perion, Elrond had agreed to attend the celebrations, knowing full well that he would end up in his lover’s arms before the night was over. They had danced the dance of warrior lovers and it had ended with them kissing passionately in plain sight of all. Several of Oropher’s most loyal supporters had loudly condemned Thranduil for his continued defiance of his Adar who now resided in Mandos so rather than take Elrond to his bed, he had sent him away.

“Dance with me, my love,” Elrond said loud enough for all to hear as he offered his hand to Thranduil. Celeborn smiled with delight and stepped aside more than willing to take Erestor as his partner just as the music began.

Glorfindel watched in fascination as the dance progressed, the steps becoming more intricate, the pace set by drums that beat like a heart beneath the compelling music. To a warrior, it appeared as if a training routine was being performed to music, but no warrior ever moved with as much grace and elegance as the dancers.

The ancient warrior recognised imaginary swords being sliced through the air, bows being shot and spears wielded as mock battles raged. As the dancers circled their partners he found he was unable to take his eyes from Erestor’s lithe body. Like the others, he was weaving between the dancers his body swaying in a movement that was far too sensual for Glorfindel’s liking so he turned his attention to Elrond and Thranduil as had nearly every elf in Imladris.

There was nothing chaste in the way these two rotated their hips in time to the slow tempo of the drums, or in the feather light touches of fingers on the tips of ears as the dancers swirled around each other, nor in the way their bodies came together so that hardened cocks rubbed together through the fabric of leggings that was stretched almost to tearing point as they continued dancing the required steps.

The drummers increased the beat slightly and the imaginary battle with weapons changed to the more personal hand to hand skirmish, and the contact between the dancers and their partners increased. Hands none too gently locked onto wrists as eyes blazing with battle lust and desire mesmerized and distracted, and promised pleasures yet to be experienced.

Again the tempo of the drum beat changed, become fast paced like a heart racing towards orgasm and the teasing hands reached for the billowing shirts and garments were ripped away, allowing access to the naked flesh that was slick with sweat and., fingers that lightly teased nipples that hardened instantly with a single touch were replaced by lips that brushed the hard nubs and lapped at the droplets of sweat that moved with erotic slowness down tense muscles covered by skin that glistened in the starlight before soaking into fabric making it almost transparent

Unable to contain his need, his desire to please his lover alone, Elrond dismissed the fact that he had an audience as irrelevant, and moved behind Thranduil, ensnared him at the waist with his arms and ground his cock wantonly against the barely concealed cleft.

It was a step that was most definitely not part of the dance but left no doubt in the minds of the onlookers that these two were lovers of longstanding. Elrond continued to rub up and down the tight fabric that moving ever faster as the drum beat became wilder and wilder until on the final beat Thranduil tuned in his arms and captured his lips, muffling his ecstatic scream of release even as his body hid the dark, wet patch that appeared on the front of his leggings.

“Come for me, my love,” he whispered breathlessly into Thranduil’s ear as he continued to writhe against him. Thranduil groaned after a few more moments of such pleasurable contact he did as his lover bid, muffling his cry of release by sucking on the soft flesh of his lover’s neck.

“I love you,” Elrond said as he claimed the sweet lips in a kiss that she wished could last forever.

“I love you, too,” Thranduil replied his eyes filled with tears of joy.


“They certainly make a beautiful couple, both so regal and powerful and pleasing to the ye as well,” Erestor said as he rested his head on Glorfindel’s shoulder while they watched Elrond and Thranduil moving among the merrymakers, accepting their best wishes and congratulations.

“And so very much in love,” Glorfindel added. “Erestor?”

“Hmm?”

“Would you teach me that dance?”

“Of course. As I recall, there is another variation that Elrond failed to mention, one that requires the privacy of a chamber and for the dancers to be unclothed from the start. Come, I think that is the one I will teach you,” Erestor said as he took his willing lover’s hand and lead him to their chambers.