Half the Distance

Title: Half the Distance
Series: Innocence Stripped Away
Chapter: Twenty-Two : Forever Holding On
Author: Orchyd Constyne
Contact: soultornasunder@gmail.com
Website: http://www.hithanaur.net/
Update List: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/nairn_orchyd/
Fandom: LOTR
Archive: OEAM
Disclaimer: I do not own LotR or any characters, lands, or items from the Tolkien world. They belong to their respective copyright holders.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: BDSM, twincest
Beta: None
Cast: Erestor/Glorfindel, Glorfindel/Thranduil, Thranduil/OMC, Erestor/OMC, Legolas/Elladan/Elrohir
Summary: Following the events of "Something Special, Something Sacred", Erestor finds himself in a dark pit of despair and fear as his bond with Glorfindel is threatened, stretched, and remade. Legolas returns to the valley where his heart was once broken to find a second chance and a new way of seeing those around him. Thranduil has lusted after Glorfindel's submission for years, and now that Erestor has opened the door for him, he intends to capture the elusive warrior as his own submissive.

---

Imladris, Summer, Third Age 2086

Thranduil sat on the divan, partially dressed, reading a missive from Mirkwood. He was distracted by his task, but he was aware of Glorfindel's eyes on him. Glorfindel always watched him, a curious light in the sapphire gaze.

This arrangement had been wordlessly agreed upon. Months ago, Thranduil had moved into Glorfindel's quarters, which Glorfindel had shared with Erestor. The playroom they used had been the one Erestor once dominated. It did not pass Thranduil's notice that Glorfindel seemed to be trying to replace Erestor with him, though Erestor, according to Glorfindel, could never be replaced. Glorfindel's wedding band remained on his finger, and he refused to speak any words of love or future hopes to Thranduil, and the Elvenking understood.

He had no illusions about what this was. Glorfindel was in need, and Thranduil was all too happy to oblige. Still, he kept boundaries. He had warned Glorfindel he was *not* Erestor, and Glorfindel had sadly admitted that, no, he was not. That had been the last time they had discussed the mentally unstable Noldo, as Elrond had been firm in his stance that Glorfindel not see Erestor until the break in Erestor's mind could be mended. They woke together, played together, and, each night, Thranduil made love to Glorfindel, the other blond's hands gripping him, his lips tasting of salt as he wept silently.

Never did Thranduil ask after those tears.

Glorfindel had tried to force play into the bed, outside the playroom, but Thranduil had been firm. Dominance and submission had no place under the sheets, and if Glorfindel wished him to be his lover, then his lover Thranduil would be. But he would not be Glorfindel's *master*. After that conversation, their lovemaking had altered drastically. Glorfindel learned to take as well as give, and it tore at Thranduil's icy heart to know the fiery Balrog Slayer had been used instead of worshipped.

"Do you intend to watch me all day, or was there something you wanted?" Thranduil asked, his voice rumbling like a great cat's purr.

Glorfindel slipped off the bed, his feet padding silently as he crossed the room to the divan. Thranduil could not help but glance up from his parchment, Glorfindel's nude form bathed in the golden rays of Anor while he stood before Thranduil. "There is something I want, Sire."

Thranduil set the parchment aside and looked up at his lover. "And what might that be?"

Slowly, a coy smile on his lips, Glorfindel situated himself upon Thranduil's lap. "Your undivided attention."

A groan was pulled from him as Glorfindel pressed their groins closer, and he gripped the Noldo's hips tightly. "That you have," he murmured, tilting his head back and offering his lips up to his lover.

Glorfindel took his time savouring Thranduil's mouth, languidly grinding their bodies together, allowing heat to build steadily. His tongue thrust deep into the Sinda's mouth, Glorfindel slipped his hand between them and freed the lacings of Thranduil's trousers. His hand wrapped around the stiff column hidden inside, and his lips twitched into a smile when Thranduil moaned. Never had he felt such freedom with Erestor, and Glorfindel found he liked it. He liked to touch and be touched as it suited him, and Thranduil gave to him everything he could have asked for.

And everything he didn't.

Breath short, they moved against one another, hands stroking, tongues tasting, and soft sounds of pleasure filling the lazy afternoon air. Glorfindel finally parted from Thranduil's mouth and breathed, "I want you. I want you inside of me."

"Gladly," Thranduil replied. Glorfindel had not washed from their earlier activities, and Thranduil's fingers slid inside with ease. He watched Glorfindel toss back his head, riding his fingers with unhurried motions of his beautiful body. After a few moments of watching his lover, Thranduil shifted their bodies enough that he could slide into the velvet heat of Glorfindel's body. Their mingled cries at the joining were fed into yet another kiss, and Glorfindel wasted no time in creating a rapid, intense rhythm.

Glorfindel lost himself in the act as he always did. Thranduil's shaft piercing him repeatedly, his hands upon his body, the taste of him in his mouth, it all chased the shadows from his mind and allowed him to *feel* without thought. The Elvenking tangled his hand in his hair, brought their mouths together again, and Glorfindel heard himself whimper. "Thranduil..."

Before Thranduil could stop himself, he whispered into Glorfindel's mouth, "Come back with me. Return to Mirkwood with me, Glorfindel."

The rhythm never faltered, and Glorfindel licked at Thranduil's lips. "I cannot do that, Thranduil. You cannot give me what I need." His voice hitched when Thranduil's sex entered him perfectly, and his fingers clutched tighter at Thranduil's shoulders.

"Neither can he," Thranduil said, the words out of his mouth without thought.

Glorfindel continued to ride Thranduil, cheeks flushed and lips parted, but the warm arousal that had made his eyes like the summer sky disappeared. Thranduil gazed up into hard chips of ice, and he realised that this was what it must be like for those who looked into *his* eyes. Glorfindel's hand snaked into his hair, and Thranduil let his eyes flutter shut as the long fingers wrapped themselves in the golden silk. Suddenly, his head was yanked back, vicious and unrelenting, and Glorfindel ceased his motions upon him. The glare Thranduil met when he opened his eyes caused his blood to run cold.

"Do not presume that just because I share your bed that you know my needs, Elvenking," Glorfindel growled down into Thranduil's arrogant face. Without another word, Glorfindel extricated himself from Thranduil's lap, grabbed his trousers and shirt, and stalked out of the room.

Thranduil rubbed his face, head resting against the back of the divan, and sighed when he heard the door to their room slam shut. "Wonderful," he muttered, desire unspent and an unnameable pain blossoming in his chest at Glorfindel's words.

***

Glorfindel stood outside the room allocated to Erestor in the House of Healing. He cracked open the door and peered in, watching his mate sleep. He ached to go into the small, white room and crawl into the narrow bed with Erestor, wrap his arms around the dark-haired Noldo and be kissed. He wanted to be kissed how he remembered it was in the beginning, before everything fell apart.

How had it all come to this? Surely, somewhere through the many years he'd known Erestor, he should have seen his friend's pain. He should have sensed his mate's turmoil. Just as Elrond had not come for Erestor in Lindon, neither had he. Erestor's ten-year disappearance had meant nothing to him. Life had carried on without the stoic, severe councillor, and Imladris had flourished under the care of its Lord and Lady.

He had stepped forward, his foot crossing the threshold, his need to be near Erestor acute, when a hand gripped his shoulder. Elrond pulled him back, shut the door, and locked it once more. With a frown, he gazed up at Glorfindel.

"What is it you think you are doing, Lord Seneschal?" Elrond demanded quietly.

"You cannot ask me to remain away from him," Glorfindel said, eyes darting to the locked door. "I need him, Elrond. He needs me!"

Elrond crossed his arms, eyes narrowed. "What he needs, Glorfindel, is time. I told you to remain away."

"I *cannot* remain away from him! He is my *mate*!" Glorfindel insisted.

"Is that so?" Elrond began slowly. "He is your mate, yet you dare to come to his sickroom smelling of the one you lie with night after night?" Glorfindel's flush and silence were all the answer Elrond needed. "Do you not realise what you are doing? You have moved the king into yours and Erestor's quarters, you play with him in Erestor's playroom, and you take him between your thighs upon the bed you and Erestor once shared. Do not come here speaking of your devotion to Erestor when you smell of sex and Thranduil, Glorfindel, it is beneath you."

Glorfindel started to speak and stopped several times until he finally fell silent. Elrond was right... Elrond was always right. Shame and guilt flooded Glorfindel, causing his face and ears to burn crimson and tears to sting his eyes.

"You are a better person than this," Elrond said quietly, cupping Glorfindel's hot cheek. "Decide where your loyalties are, and do not come back until you do. With any luck, by that time, Erestor will be whole enough to decide if you are worth fighting for."

The Noldo watched his lord walk away, and the tears that had hovered in his eyes fell. He pressed his hand to the door, shaking his head, and, pushing away angrily, he stalked to the baths, wanting to rid himself of Thranduil's scent.

TBC...