BLOWING VALAROMA

Author's Note: This is a work of Fan Fiction. I will not be receiving any payment for this work. The characters, places, etc., are the property of the Estate of J.R.R. Tolkien and possibly New Line Cinema.

WON’T YOU STAY?

When Celegorm awoke in the morning he felt strange. Something was different. He opened his eyes and at the same time he remembered that he had gone to sleep in Oromë the Vala’s house, and the previous night they had shared a bottle of wine together while he was naked for some reason and Oromë was not. This struck him as a little odd. Then he remembered that he had had a bath and Oromë couldn’t find any clothes for him to put on. Something about that seemed a bit odd as well, the more he thought about it. Then he remembered asking Oromë if he could blow his horn and the Vala had dropped their first tray of drinks on the floor. He had gone to get them another, but this time he carried the wine bottle in a wooden bucket while holding two pewter tankards in his other hand. They had drunk the wine and talked until he fell asleep. Celegorm shifted in the bed and lifted the sheet up because it was sticking to his front and it was uncomfortable. He peeled it off of himself and then he turned onto his side. He saw that Oromë was in the bed too. Well, he guessed that was normal because, after all, it was his bed and anyway, Celegorm was used to sharing his bed with his younger brother Caranthir sometimes, since they had been children. He and Caranthir used to steal each other’s pillows and slap each other on the ass with wound-up towels. Celegorm wondered if Oromë would like that. He seemed a playful sort of Vala.

Oromë appeared to be sleeping, but Celegorm thought he wouldn’t mind some fooling around. So Celegorm reached across the big wide bed and yanked the pillow out from under the Vala’s head.

“What? What? Is Morgoth coming?” Oromë cried as he was startled out of his dream. Then Huan, barking loudly when he heard the name ‘Morgoth’, came bounding up onto the bed from where he had been sleeping at its foot, and pulled all of the covers off of Celegorm with his teeth. The young Elf began laughing and tussling with Huan while Oromë sat up and tried to get his bearings. He had a really bad case of bedhead and morning breath, a bit of a headache and his pyjamas were all askew. He noticed that in his bed were his big hound and a really lovely young male Elf with no clothes on. And he really was very, very lovely. What had happened last night? Had he taken advantage of the boy? He tried strenuously to remember because if he had done that he certainly would have wanted to remember it, but he had no memory of anything happening at all. He was starting to feel a bit disappointed, but then he remembered also that this Elf was Celegorm, Fëanor’s son, and the least bright of all of Fëanor’s sons. He was also very innocent, like a child almost, and Oromë would never take advantage of that. He would only give into temptation if Celegorm wanted him to make love to him. And Oromë felt that there was probably no chance of that with the kind of luck he usually had. In fact, Celegorm had said he would dearly love to blow Oromë’s horn, but Oromë believed he actually meant Valaroma. Very disappointing that was.

He watched in amusement as Celegorm and Huan played with each other on the bed. Oromë wanted to throw off his pyjamas and join in, but he suppressed the urge and decided he would go and make breakfast.

“Would you like anything to eat, Tyelkormo?” he asked.

“Yes, please! What have you got?” asked the boy.

“How about a really big sausage?” asked Oromë. “I just made some the other day. And some eggs from the hen house and fresh bread?”

“Sounds delicious”, said Celegorm, rubbing his stomach and making “mmm” noises as he thrust himself back against the pillows. Oromë watched him through the mirror as he pretended to dust the dresser and then went to the kitchens to get the food ready.

Oromë was bending over the pan of sausages that was sizzling on the hot stovetop, trying to think of a way he could get Celegorm to stay forever and never, ever go home, when he was startled by the snap of a towel against his ass. He turned around quickly and saw the still naked Celegorm holding a wound-up towel in his hand and jumping back and forth like a maniac.

“Are you always this bouncy in the morning?” asked Oromë.

“Yes! My Ada says I have a lot of repressed energy that I have to get off!” replied the lively Celegorm.

“I think he probably meant you have a lot of ‘suppressed’ energy you have to ‘let off’”, corrected Oromë.

Celegorm shrugged. “I suppose so”, he said, “whatever difference that makes”. He then unwound the towel and fastened it around his waist.

“What did you do that for?” asked Oromë as he set a large platter of eggs and sausages down on the table, adding it to the loaf of bread, heaping bowl of butter and mugs of steaming coffee.

“What?” asked Celegorm, his mouth full of food.

“Put that towel on?” asked Oromë.

“Well, you haven’t given me any clothes to wear”, Celegorm explained between bites. “Oh, this is good! We don’t eat like this at my house! Macalaurë usually cooks and his food is terrible! Can I live with you?”

Oromë looked startled and then pondered his two problems.

#1) How to get Celegorm to take off the towel while making it seem natural to do so and not too obvious that Oromë wanted him naked; and
#2) How to get Celegorm to live with him.

Problem #2 had likely solved itself since the boy had just asked Oromë if he could live with him. Perhaps the answer to #1 would be solved also in due time, but for now he’d have to think of some other ploy.

“My dear boy, of course you are welcome to stay here as long as you wish, and if you would indeed like to live here, and if it is fine with your parents, then I will consider it”. He tried to sound as nonchalant as possible. Then Oromë excused himself from the table and went to tidy up in the bedroom.

As he turned down the sheets Oromë was surprised to see evidence that someone had had a nocturnal emission during the night. He knew it wasn’t him because it was on Celegorm’s side of the bed. Curious, he went back into the kitchen where Celegorm was still tucking into his breakfast. The young Elf was holding a fairly large sausage in one hand. It was about a foot long, Oromë estimated, and a good two inches in diameter. Celegorm threw his head back, opened his lovely mouth wide and pushed the whole thing down his throat until it disappeared. Then he withdrew it slowly, licking the bottom of the sausage with his pink tongue as he did so. “Yum”, he said, and sucked the top of the sausage noisily. “Juicy”, he remarked between swallows.

Oromë lowered himself onto the bench opposite Celegorm and picking up a cloth napkin, wiped his brow. He was very impressed by the capacity that Celegorm had just demonstrated. “Can I ask you something?” he said.

“What is it?” asked Celegorm in return, still sucking on his sausage.

“How old are you, Tyelkormo?” he enquired.

“Fifty-three”, Celegorm replied.

“Past majority, eh, but only just”, Oromë remarked as Celegorm nodded. “Tell me, do you have a girlfriend?”

Celegorm blushed hotly. “No, not really”, he said.

“What do you mean ‘not really’?” asked Oromë with much interest.

“Well, nobody serious”, was the reply.

“Can I be frank with you?” asked Oromë. “Man to man?”

“Sure”, replied Celegorm, stuffing another sausage into his mouth and chewing it exuberantly.

“Have you ever – erm – had relations with anyone before?” asked Oromë as tactfully as he could muster.

“What do you mean?” asked Celegorm.

“I mean, things that a young male and female will do to – erm – comfort and relieve each other. Or, sometimes two males and two females”.

“Four people at the same time?” Celegorm asked, incredulous.

“No”, said Oromë patiently. “Did your father not tell you about these things?”

“Ada just said things like, ‘time to get your poker in the fire’, or ‘it’s time someone popped your cork for you’, but I never knew what he meant, although I knew it meant something good because Nelyo and Macalaurë would laugh at me when Ada said it. But Ada says he is always too busy to explain things longer than that and said I should be able to figure out what it meant”.

“Do you think that Fëanor would mind if you stayed here with me, then?”

“I don’t think he’d mind at all”, said Celegorm brightly.

“Because you asked me earlier if you could live here with me, and I wasn’t sure if you meant it or whether you were only making jokes with me”.

“No, I really meant it”, said Celegorm, giving Oromë a dazzling smile that melted the heart of the mighty Vala. “I like you a lot. You gave me Huan, which was lovely. But won’t Mrs. Oromë mind?”

“No, Vana won’t mind at all”, Oromë said quickly. “You will notice that she is not here. She is away in Taniquetil right now. She is always traveling these days and is away a lot”.

“I know how you feel”, said Celegorm, reaching across the table to touch Oromë’s hand sympathetically. Oromë was surprised when Celegorm actually picked up the Vala’s hand and squeezed it. “I feel lonely too in my house sometimes”.

Oromë was extremely touched by this gesture and felt a genuine fondness growing in his heart for this boy. He squeezed Celegorm’s hand in return. “But you have such a large family”, the Vala said.

“Large enough to be lost within it”, said Celegorm. “Maitimo and Macalaurë are close, but Caranthir prefers to be alone than in my company now that he is older, and the others are too young for me yet. And nobody likes to ride and hunt like I do”.

“Do you really love to ride and hunt?” asked Oromë kindly.

“Yes, I do very much! That is why I was so excited about having a chance to blow that big horn of yours”, he replied.

Oromë coughed as a piece of egg lodged in his throat, caused by the sudden intake of breath that he took.

“Do you know what I’d really like to do after breakfast?” asked Oromë.

“Go riding and hunting?” asked Celegorm eagerly.

“No! Well, yes – but later!” declared Oromë. “Before that, I’d like to paint you!”

“Paint me? What colour?” asked Celegorm.

Oromë, startled, pondered this question. He had meant that Celegorm would sit for him in the nude, and Oromë would paint his picture. It was the only way he could think of at the moment to get the boy out of his towel. But Celegorm had thought that Oromë meant to paint HIM, as in “body painting”. This offered a wealth of possibilities to Oromë. How he would love to get his hands on that backside. He wondered if body painting was ever done with fingerpaints. Then once again, he shook that thought out of his mind and took the high road.

“No”, he said. “Not a colour. You pose for me and I’ll paint your portrait”.

“Really?” Celegorm asked, his bright blue eyes opening wide as he stared at the Vala. “My own portrait? When?”

“How about right now?” asked Oromë, becoming excited by the thought, and not wishing to delay further what could prove to be a gloriously joyful session in the outdoors.

A few moments later, after the breakfast dishes were washed (Oromë washed and Celegorm dried. Oromë made Celegorm use his towel to dry them with, and just for fun, he had daubed a handful of soap suds on Celegorm’s chest. Celegorm had joined in the game and had reached into the sink and daubed suds onto each of his nipples and then his private parts. Then he waggled himself to see if the suds would fly off. They did, and this seemed like such a fun game to Oromë that he almost took his own clothes off and joined in the fun but again, he decided to take the high road and didn’t do so.) Oromë went out to set up his artist’s easel in the back yard and he asked Celegorm to bring out a stool that he, the model, could sit on.

“How do you want me on the stool?” asked Celegorm as Oromë was setting up his paints.

“Well, why don’t you try a few different poses and we’ll see?” suggested Oromë.

“Okay”, said Celegorm. “How about this one?” and proceeded to lean back on the stool with his arms behind him and his legs spread-eagled, his knees bent and feet resting on the stool’s rungs.

When Oromë looked up and saw this pose straight on, he accidentally put his hand in one of his containers of water, spilling it, and had to go back in the house to get another one.

“Tyelkormo! Not so blatantly obvious! What would people think if they saw that hanging on my wall? Let’s try something a bit more modest”, Oromë suggested.

“Like what?” asked Celegorm.

“How about standing with your backsi- I mean, your back to me and then turn your head sideways to look over your shoulder”.

“Like this?” asked Celegorm, doing as Oromë suggested, dropping his head slightly and looking up at Oromë from under his brows.

“Oh, that’s good, very good”, said Oromë, liking the angle, and it was not the angle of Celegorm’s face that he liked. “Just one more thing”, he said as he strode up to Celegorm and ruffled the Elf’s hair so that it looked untidy. “That looks wonderful”, he remarked. “As if you’ve just had a good hard ride and you’re all outdoorsy-looking”. Then, when he dropped his hands down from Celegorm’s hair, his left one accidentally brushed Celegorm’s cheeks, and not the ones on his face. Celegorm gasped.

“Oh, Tyelkormo, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean for that to actually happen”, Oromë apologized.

“That’s okay. It felt good. That’s why I gasped”.

“Really?” asked Oromë. He just loved how this boy was so open and candid.

“Yes, really”, Celegorm went on. “It made a little thrill, almost like a butterfly feeling, go through my stomach and I got a little bit excited”.

This really was too good to be true. Oromë was dazzled. “You did?” he asked.

“Yes. Look”, said Celegorm, turning around and showing him.

“Oh, Mother of Eru!” yelled Oromë. He was caught off guard completely by the boy’s frankness. “Quick! Get in the house before one of the servants sees you like that!”

“I’m sorry! I couldn’t help it!” cried Celegorm. He seemed rather upset about it.

“Come down to the bedroom quickly!” said Oromë, leading him by the hand and the two of them ran down the hallway.

“I’m going to leave you here”, said Oromë after making Celegorm lie down on his back on the bed. “Do you know how to take care of it yourself?”

“Yes”, said Celegorm, “but – “

“Good, then you can come back out when you’ve finished and then we will need to have a talk, you and I”, said Oromë, and headed out of the room.

When he was almost at the door, Oromë heard a voice like sweet music to his ears.

“Wait”, he heard Celegorm say. “Won’t you stay?”