AFF Fiction Portal

Twilight Tales - The Captain's Guerdon

By: MPB
folder -Multi-Age › General
Rating: Adult ++
Chapters: 20
Views: 8,801
Reviews: 17
Recommended: 0
Currently Reading: 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
arrow_back Previous Next arrow_forward

Chapter 16


Chapter XVI

The last rays of the winter sun left the bedchamber awash in faint red and gold hues. Dusk inexorably approached and with it the first binding ceremony to be held in the Last Homely House east of the sea in centuries. It was cause for celebration in all the vale despite the uncertainty of what was happening in the lands beyond. Elrond and his children gathered together one last time before their family welcomed another into its fold.



The Lord of Imladris looked upon his progeny with boundless pride and joy. He knew that few could equal their collective and individual splendor. But far more than the resplendence of their countenances and forms did he rejoice in the beauty of their spirits. He had been blessed beyond measure when Eru gave him such wondrous souls to sire.



He watched his sons as they attended to each other, Elladan adjusting Elrohir’s belt, Elrohir fastening the small clasp on Elladan’s mantle. Arwen glided across the room with effortless grace, bearing a collar of mithril links and square-cut diamonds in her hands. This she slipped around Elladan’s neck to rest against the snowy fabric of his attire.



The whole family was arrayed thusly – indeed, the principals in the ancient ritual that would take place under the stars would all be clad in white. But while any embroidery on the clothing of the two intended or ornaments donned by them were limited to the muted colors of silver, gold or grey, the others bore more colorful needlework and jewelry.



The bodice of Arwen’s gown displayed clusters of primroses and forget-me-nots. A silver girdle inlaid with precious stones encircled her waist. Her flowing skirt was gathered high in front to reveal the filmy layers of her shift which bore more of the dainty pink and blue flowers that graced her upper body. Her dark hair was caught up and held in place by a simple tiara.



Elrond’s formal robe was embellished with the emblem of the Eldar, a crescent moon in silver purl borne by Galathilion, the white tree of the Firstborn that stood before the Mindon in fair Tirion upon Túna. More purl had been used to evince the silver nether sides of the tree’s dark green leaves. A circlet of mithril and gold sat upon Elrond’s brow.



The Elvenlord smiled at his twin sons. They looked more alike than ever this day when one was about to cleave to another in matrimony.



Beneath their formal raiment they wore long white shirts and pale grey hose and dress boots. Belts of linked silver enclosed their slender waists and silver circlets crowned their heads. Both had not surprisingly eschewed the traditional floor-length robes for the close-necked court tunics they always favored for such affairs. Hanging from their shoulders were long mantles of fine silk.



Here the similarity ended for whereas Elladan’s mantle was white and bore Vingilot with her swan-shaped prow, golden oars and silver lanterns and sails, Elrohir’s was grey and upon it was a silver star against a field of tiny crystals and white and silver clouds, evincing the way the Peredhil’s foresire, Eärendil, outshone all the stars in the firmament when he was at his brightest. And the mithril collar about Elrohir’s neck bore cabochon-cut sapphires instead of diamonds.



In this moment, the siblings looked every inch the scions of the Elven kings of old – compelling, commanding and comely beyond belief.



Elrond placed his hands on his older son’s shoulders and gripped them fondly. “At last you have come to your desire,” he said beamingly. “Indeed, you have all found your heart’s homes,” he continued, looking at Elrohir and Arwen. “I pray I shall be permitted to witness every one of your bindings ere I must depart into the West.”



“Should the Ring-bearer fulfill his Quest, you shall, Ada”—Papa— Elrohir assured him. Arwen was quick to agree.



Elladan smiled faintly at them, knowing how deeply they missed their betrotheds. He hugged his father then gripped his brother and sister’s hands.



“I still cannot quite believe that I have finally won my elusive captain,” he said with a soft laugh. “It seems strange that but a week ago I had despaired of ever doing so.”



“And have you discovered the cause for his elusiveness?” Arwen quietly inquired. She was not always privy to her brothers’ deepest secrets but she was as discerning as they and their father and had long suspected that all was not always well with Elladan and Glorfindel.



Elladan nodded, his smile widening. Only Elrohir knew some of what Glorfindel had revealed to him the night before but there was much more that would forever be his and his lover’s secret alone.



“His hesitation was more than justified,” he admitted. “I cannot blame him for fearing to venture himself in love once more.”



“Yet had he been more forthcoming long ago, you would not have come so close to sacrificing yourself for naught,” Elrohir pointed out.



“Now, now, tôr vell”—dear brother—Elladan chuckled, understanding his twin’s lingering pique. “We agreed to leave that where it belongs – in the past. And I was as much at fault in permitting matters to go on as they did and for so long. And as much out of fear as he that I might lose him should I demand more than he felt ready to give. Neither of us comported ourselves with good sense I must admit.”



Elrond snorted and said: “As if one can dredge up any sense at all when in the throes of love. If you erred, it was only to be expected, and only the degree of it might merit reproof. I would be far more skeptical of an extremely tidy affair with no passion or dissent to stir up matters here and then.”



“Spoken from experience, Ada?” Elrohir grinned.



“And lore,” Elrond added. “Three ages worth of it.”



********

They waited until the stars had appeared before making their way to the porch where the binding rites would take place. It was on the western side of the house, chosen because it was not open to the icy drafts from the east that had the one non-elven member of the wedding party shivering all the way to his marrow. The Elves were not troubled by the cold but Bilbo Baggins was and it was for the plucky old hobbit’s sake that this sheltered spot had been selected.



The hush that greeted the arrival of Elrond and his children was resonant in its silence. Most of the household had been with the family since the founding of Imladris yet the Peredhil could still astound them with their singular beauty. But it was an audible gasp that announced the appearance of Glorfindel, flanked by those of his warriors whom he held dearest. Elladan was transfixed from the moment he laid eyes on his mate-to-be.



Glorfindel had plaited his golden hair in the austere but elegant manner of the ancient warrior-lords of Gondolin and upon his brow was a circlet of mithril with a single stone of adamant in its center. He had chosen as the brethren and in lieu of formal robes had donned a court tunic. Draped over his shoulders was an immaculate mantle bedecked with the emblem of his House of the Golden Flower.



Cut in the Noldorin style from the First Age, the tunic was a hand span longer than the brethren’s, bore short sleeves and opened halfway down the front. His shirt was the color of pale wine with a high collar and long cuffed sleeves; his hose and boots were pure white. In some awe, the twin realized that the tunic was not of recent vintage but one the captain had brought with him from Valinor upon his return to Middle-earth.



From Glorfindel’s neck hung a necklace wrought in the fashion of three ages ago – clearly an heirloom piece. Nine miniature engraved gold plates adorned the double-stranded chain. Each plate depicted an image from the ancient past; a past Glorfindel had known intimately. There were Telperion and Laurelin before their hallowed lights were extinguished. The natural arch in the harbor of the Telerin city of Alqualondë. A stylized map of the wide streets and spacious courts of Tirion. Sacred Taniquetil upon which stood Ilmarin, the mansions of Manwë and Varda. The lamplit quays of Avallonë on Tol Eressëa. Vinyamar beneath Mount Taras in Nevrast. Thorondor’s eyries in the craggy peaks of the Crissaegrim. The Orfalch Echor and its seven gates. And last and largest, the Hidden City itself upon Amon Gwareth with the tower of Turgon proudly reaching skyward. Elladan surmised that an Elf of Glorfindel’s house had rescued the necklace from the sack of Gondolin and borne it to Valinor after the Great Battle that ended the First Age.



So enthralled was he by the vision the captain presented that he failed to note until after a minute or so that Glorfindel was eyeing him likewise. And with more than mere appreciation for his graces. Blue flames smoldered in the warrior’s eyes as he gazed at his Peredhel lover, proclaiming to one and all that Elladan was his and his alone. Under that openly possessive stare, Elladan found himself blushing for the first time in centuries under a lover’s regard.



Elrond exchanged smiles with Erestor as they took their respective places. Glorfindel had requested the counsellor to stand as his kin and the latter had acceded to the request with great delight. His wife stood with Elrohir and Arwen to one side of the couple. The rest gathered around them. Led by Lindir, their voices lifted in songs of praise to almighty Eru and the Valar. The music resounded through the valley, warming the hearts and lifting the spirits of all who heard.



Silence fell upon the small crowd when presences other than theirs made themselves felt. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Elladan faced the Elf he had come to believe could never be his. But when they clasped hands, Glorfindel lifted Elladan’s hand and with a tender caress of his lips banished the twin’s fraught emotions leaving only joy and anticipation in their place.



In the way of the Elves the ceremony was simplicity itself yet moving in its solemnity and the profundity of its intent. The vows exchanged placed no limits of time or place on the joining of their souls but spanned existence beyond the life of Arda itself. From this day onward there would be no sundering their bond of espousal and woe to any even unto the Valar themselves who sought to come between them.



The gold bands that symbolized their mating found their berths on the index fingers of their right hands. Blood was let and an eternal link was forged. And the warmth of blessing and approval from invisible entities beyond the ken of mortal men waxed even as the elven flames of the now bound lovers burned hotter than ever.



Hardly had the blood between their joined hands ceased to flow when Glorfindel pulled Elladan into a crushing embrace and all but soldered their mouths together. It was a sight Rivendell had not been treated to by their reticent, oh so proper captain. Only the counsellors managed to contain their shock having been treated to a similarly eye-opening display just days ago.



Glorfindel maintained enough presence of mind to recall that they were not alone and with great reluctance released his rather breathless mate. Arwen laughingly dove into the breach to hug her new law-brother and welcome him into the family.



Of the feast that followed, the captain had no complaints save that it was a tad too long for his liking. Or rather his need. The wine was the finest to be had, the food so far above reproach as to be deemed beyond excellent and the atmosphere so convivial, so heartily hopeful, that for this night at least the woes and perils beyond the borders of Imladris were forgotten. But Glorfindel had little patience for merriment and company this eve. For the longer he was forced to behave toward Elladan with no more intimacy than to hold his hand, touch his back or plant a quick kiss on his much too delectable lips, the brighter did his flame burn and the greater did his need mount.



Which, as midnight approached, he decided he was in dire need of doing soonest if he was to spare Elladan too much discomfort from an excess of hard ridings in the space of one night. And so he strode over to where his darkling mate was happily conversing with a few friends and well-wishers and, with the barest of by-your-leaves, plucked him from their midst. An almost hilariously hasty goodnight to his spouse’s amused family and he was propelling said spouse down the hall to their new apartment.



Elrond had gifted them with a spacious suite of rooms in the less populated rightmost corner of the residential wing of the house. It was as much for their former neighbors’ peace as it was for their own comfort. In the week leading up to this day, there had been many a comment from those occupying the rooms immediately adjacent to their respective quarters that Glorfindel seemed to have completely discarded his previous aversion to public scrutiny of his intimate affairs. No one begrudged Elladan his delight at being so openly if lustily acknowledged at last but even Elves need a good night’s rest now and then.



Elladan grinned when they entered the apartment. Wine and fruit had been laid out on the small table in the sitting room, the hearth in the sleeping chamber had been lit and the wide, four-poster bed had been turned down in readiness for the night. But all these amenities were lost on Glorfindel. They could have been in a dank empty cave with only moss or heather for bedding for all he cared. He simply pulled Elladan toward the bed, hauled him into a scalding kiss then drew away and, tugging impatiently at his belt, growled: “Heltho!” Strip!



Elladan blinked, just the least bit overwhelmed by his lover’s urgency. A glare from the captain prompted him to dispense with hesitancy and he hurriedly did as he was bid. Within seconds of shedding the last of his clothing, he found himself on the bed and at the receiving end of a marauding mouth and rapacious hands.



“Glorfindel!” he yelped at a particularly sharp nip to a much too taut nipple. “There is no need for haste, meleth!”—love!



Pausing for only as long as it took to voice a reply, Glorfindel retorted: “There is for me. I am nigh fit to burst!” He swooped down and virtually swallowed Elladan whole.



The twin cried out at the peremptory assault. He reached for his overly ardent spouse. “Then let me help you spend some,” he urged.



Glorfindel glanced up at him and, with a smirk, nodded and shifted about that they might pleasure each other simultaneously. Elladan gasped then chuckled at his first sight of his mate’s predicament and, without further ado, applied himself to taking the edge off Glorfindel’s over-sharp desire. It was the only thing to do if he wanted the first coupling of the night to last longer than a few stabs of the captain’s sword.



He eagerly drew upon the rosy column, relishing the glide of velvet skin against his tongue and the considerable length and thickness that filled his mouth to capacity. Glorfindel groaned around his own mouthful of sweet, hard flesh as his mate skillfully brought him ever closer to much needed release. Every sensation was heightened now that they could sense each other’s pleasure in full – they could only imagine what the joining of their bodies would effect.



They spent themselves within minutes, supping of the opulent cream of each other’s completion before seeking the union of their mouths once more. Elladan smiled to himself as he felt the still rigid shaft that prodded his belly, evidence that Glorfindel’s passion had been little abated by his release. A moment later, Glorfindel proved this when he reached for Elladan’s firm backside and eased his fingers down its cleft.



With a soft laugh, Elladan rolled over on his belly then positioned himself on hands and knees. Glorfindel raised an inquiring eyebrow.



“Methinks you need a good, hard ride,” Elladan said.



The captain laughed back. “More than I ever thought I would,” he admitted as he molded himself to Elladan’s back. “Splendor of Eru, I have not felt such need in all my years. You have ensorcelled me, Peredhel.”



Before Elladan could respond, he drove his shaft home, eliciting a startled moan from his mate. He did not give Elladan much time to adjust to him but began the long, deep plunges that most oft had the twin pushing back against him desperately, begging for more. It was no different now though his initial spending allowed him to prolong their coupling.



They moved as they always had – in perfect synchrony, answering each other’s unspoken needs with every thrust and counterthrust. Glorfindel leaned low and pressed hungry kisses to Elladan’s spine, the back of his shoulders, his nape and just behind his ears, eliciting a litany of gasps, moans and whimpers from below. When he heard the first of Elladan’s pleas, he reached around to stroke him to an explosive finish.



The tightening around his length and the increasingly erratic backward lunges of Elladan’s hips warned the captain of his mate’s impending release. He embedded himself as deeply as he could in Elladan’s core and thereby reaped the full effects of the twin’s climax. The clenching of satin bound muscles around his shaft milked him rigorously, smiting him with as much rapture as the flow of ecstasy from Elladan to him. He spent himself copiously, his pleasure drawing out Elladan’s bliss in turn.



The shock of that first brush with the amplified rapture wrought in a coupling between bound Elves left them quite speechless. Disengaging their bodies, they lay entwined for some minutes without speaking while they awaited the quieting of their pounding hearts.



At last, Elladan lifted his tousled head and languidly looked at his golden spouse. “I trust you are content?” he murmured.



Glorfindel smiled. “For the moment,” he drawled. “But I have not yet had my fill of you, pen neth”—young one—“and morning is still many hours away.”



Elladan chuckled and dropped a kiss on the captain’s shoulder. “There is something I would very much like to know,” he said. At Glorfindel’s encouraging nod, he continued. “The night you told me you knew about my – misadventure in Lórien… Why did you bed me if you meant to leave me?”



Glorfindel did not respond at once but trained his gaze awhile on the darkness outside their windows. Finally he looked at Elladan and said: “‘Twas as much my farewell to you as a means to show you what you would forego when you chose to be with him. But it was also my way of gleaning one last memory of our time together. For the times when I would no longer have you with me.”



Elladan stared at him. “Then you felt our separation us keenly as I did?” he asked.



“Every single day,” Glorfindel whispered.



It did not take long for their passion to flare anew. Glorfindel pulled Elladan atop him and plied his mouth against the pale flesh of his slender throat while his hands roamed his mate’s body with lubricious fervor. When they began to grind their hips against each other, Elladan collected his wits and righted himself.



Glorfindel came out of his lustful haze to stare at him. Elladan was on his knees, astride the captain’s groin, one hand on Glorfindel’s hip to steady himself as his other hand reached behind to guide his lover home. But of a sudden Glorfindel knew it was time to entrust himself even further to his beloved.



“Wait,” he murmured, placing a restraining hand on Elladan’s thigh.



Elladan looked at him curiously but obeyed and did not lower himself onto Glorfindel’s rigid shaft. To his surprise, the captain urged him to shift so that he came to rest between Glorfindel’s legs instead. He caught his breath at the thought of what their altered position entailed. Though Glorfindel had yielded to him enough times to content him, the actual number was certainly far from numerous and never had the reborn warrior once faced him on these occasions.



“Do you truly desire this?” Elladan murmured.



Glorfindel lifted his long legs and locked them around Elladan’s waist. “I feel safe with you, Elladan,” he softly said.



They smiled at each other before Elladan pushed in, sinking into Glorfindel’s velvet warmth until he was sheathed to the hilt. Peering closely at his mate’s face for any signs of discomfort, he saw how Glorfindel instinctively averted his face only to draw a shuddery breath and turn his head to face Elladan once more. But his eyes were shut, hiding them and the feelings they revealed. It dawned on the older twin then. He was not merely the only ellon to whom Glorfindel had yielded in his second life but also the only ellon to see the warrior’s complete surrender in both lives.



You are safe with me, Glorfindel, he silently assured the fair-haired Elf.



Glorfindel opened his eyes as the comforting thought touched his mind and looked at him. He reached up and pulled Elladan down into a spate of molten yet ever so tender kisses. At length their lips drew apart but not their gazes. Elladan could not tear his eyes away from Glorfindel’s face, noting every flicker of emotion that crossed the captain’s features as his body was repeatedly breached and stroked and claimed. Saw the reluctance to admit enjoyment of such abject surrender mingle with ecstasy.



Elladan decided to cross that invisible line once and for all. Grasping Glorfindel’s hands, he held them down in a mute yet eloquent request for Glorfindel to entrust all of himself to him. Entranced by the utter love in his mate’s pewter eyes, the proud Noldo complied.



As the first waves of their shared rapture approached, he allowed the dam of his control to break and opened himself utterly to Elladan’s probing eyes. The twin caught his breath as he witnessed that transformation. He did not think he had ever seen Glorfindel look so vulnerable. Or so breathtakingly beautiful. Elladan sealed their mouths together, his tongue mimicking the delving of his shaft. His hand reached between them to ensure the captain’s release as well as his own.



The waves crested then crashed upon them with such fearsome force that for a moment or two they lost all conscious thought as pure sensation reigned over their minds and bodies. Warm cream coated Elladan’s fingers and dappled their bellies and chest while liquid heat spilled deep into Glorfindel’s very core. Elladan did not quite recall when he finally withdrew from his mate; he only remembered coming to rest against his body.



When Elladan came back to full awareness, he quickly looked down at Glorfindel in concern. Espying a suspicious brightness in the captain’s crystalline eyes, he felt a spike of alarm surge through him. But Glorfindel pulled him close.



“I am neither hurt nor regretful,” he whispered. “I cannot say what merited me this second chance but I am deeply grateful that the Powers saw fit to bestow you upon me. Know that I will treasure you always, my Elladan.”



The older twin gazed at him with quiet joy. For the longest time, they remained thusly, happy to lie together and behold each other’s faces. And then a roguish smile lit up Elladan’s handsome features.



“As you said, morning is still many hours away,” he teased. “Do you really think yourself up to it, pen iaur?”—ancient one?



Glorfindel choked on the gibe then allowed himself a mirthful snort. He threatened: “Beware, imp, lest I teach you to be more respectful of—”



“My elders?” Elladan interjected with a smirk.



The captain growled and pounced on him. A good three quarters of an hour passed before either of them spoke with any coherence once more.



“I really must remember not to goad you overmuch,” Glorfindel heard Elladan murmur against his shoulder, his voice thick with pleasure and satisfaction. The captain could not quite stifle a smug snicker.



******************************

Glossary:

Mindon – the tower of Ingwë, High King of the Eldar, in Tirion

Tirion - city of the Elves on the hill of Túna in Aman

Vingilot – ‘Foam-flower’, the name of Eärendil’s ship

Alqualondë – chief city and haven of the Teleri on the shores of Valinor

Taniquetil – highest mountain in Valinor and Arda upon which Ilmarin, the mansions of Manwë and Varda stood

Avallonë – city of the Eldar on Tol Eressëa, ‘The Lonely Isle’

Vinyamar – Turgon’s house under Mount Taras in Nevrast

Nevrast – region along the original northwestern coast of Middle-earth wherein Turgon and his people dwelt before they removed to Gondolin

Crissaegrim – the mountain-peaks south of Gondolin that harbored the eyries of Thorondor, king of the eagles

ellon – male Elf



To be continued




arrow_back Previous Next arrow_forward

Age Verification Required

This website contains adult content. You must be 18 years or older to access this site.

Are you 18 years of age or older?