Midsummer Heat

Title: Midsummer Heat (28/28)
Rating: NC-17
Type: FPS Erestor/Glorfindel, and Elrond/Thranduil
Author: jenolas
email: jbozovic @hotmail.com

Disclaimer: LOTR belongs to the creative genius of JRR Tolkien, not me.

A/N: I would just like to take this opportunity to thank all those who stayed to the end of this story, and offer a very special thank you to those who took the time to post a comment. Much appreciated one and all.

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

Chapter 28/28 (Last Chapter)

Galadriel smiled when she heard the determined knock on the door and moved quickly to open it to stand face to face with the one she knew was standing outside.

“I wish to speak with Arwen… alone,” he stated, his gaze unflinching as he allowed the far seeing Lady to look into his inner self.

“I know, and perhaps you can succeed where I have not,” she replied, apparently satisfied with whatever she had learned. “I promised Celeborn a walk in the gardens, so I will leave you two to alone. Arwen is out on the balcony, try not to give in to the temptation to cast her over the wall should she become insufferable,” she said laughing softly at her jesting words as she reached up to brush Thranduil’s cheek with her lips in a gesture of both affection and encouragement.

“Thank you, my Lady, I will certainly show the same restraint I sense you have in this situation,” he teased in return, the smile on his lips the same one that had charmed many a maid over the years. Unfortunately this was unlikely to sway Arwen in her present state of anguish as they both acknowledged with a knowing glance.

“I believe we need to talk, Arwen,” Thranduil said as he stepped out onto the balcony. Arwen turned to face her unexpected visitor, her stormy grey eyes widening with surprise and then fury as she turned angrily away.

“I have nothing to say to you, my lord,” she said, her voice as cold as the icy Mid-winter winds and her cutting sarcasm making the salutation sound like an insult.

“As you wish, but since I know that Erestor must have taught you to be polite to your elders, at least do me the courtesy of listening to what I have to say,” he stated with a hardness in his own voice that enhanced the aura of strength and majesty that surrounded him and warned Arwen that she was dealing with an Elf who was in no way intimidated by her childish manner.

“I will listen,” she replied with as much indifference as she dared in the face of such a fearsome Elf.

“Despise me, ignore me, and offer me nothing but disrespect to your heart’s content, for I truly care not how you choose to treat me. All I care about is ensuring that you cease to cause Elrond pain,” Thranduil stated bluntly.

“I can not accept you as his lover,” Arwen replied, trying to sound defiant but succeeding only with choking on the tears that were beginning to fall freely at being spoken to in such an unforgiving and brutal manner.

“Then you dishonour Celebrían’s wishes and you show nothing but disrespect for the sanctity of a bond formed with the blessing of the Valar. Have you so little love for Elrond that you can not allow him the happiness and love that he has so long been denied?” Arwen’s eyes widened in shock at these accusations and shook her head in denial.

“I love both Nana and Adar so much that I can not bear the thought of you in her place, or in her bed,” she whispered, the blush in her cheeks taking the edge off her brazen last words.

“I am not taking Celebrían’s place in his heart; I am reclaiming mine, just as Elrond has reclaimed his in my own heart, and we shared our bodies and our bed long before your parents ever met, not that such is any of your concern,” Thranduil replied just as brazenly and with a hint of triumph for a battle already won as far as he was concerned.

“I can not deny my own feelings,” Arwen said, her eyes almost begging Thranduil to understand, and he did.

“Neither can I, nor do I want to. Arwen you must realise that the ties of love that bind Elrond and I will last forever, that with or without your blessing we will be together as lovers until the end of time,” he said with a warmth and tenderness that was so incongruous with his current cold attitude that, as much as she hated to admit it, Arwen could not deny Thranduil’s love ran much deeper and stronger than anything she had witnessed between her parents.

“Then what do you expect me to do? I will not deceive Adar into believing I accept your relationship,” she stated adamantly. Thranduil allowed a small smile to curve his lips at the fiery young maid who reminded him so much of Legolas’s naneth.

“It would be so very wrong of you to try. All I ask…and all he needs from you is for you to give him back your love. Can you not see the pain in his eyes each time you speak in anger or turn away from him? Leave Imladris now if you must, but promise him you will miss him and that you will not wait too long to return.”

“Those words are nothing but the truth, for me … and for you as well, are they not?” she replied with sudden insight. Despite his outward show of emotional control, Thranduil was also in pain, not because of the tension between herself and Elrond, but because he was facing another kind of heartbreak in the near future.

“Aye, as much as we wish it were otherwise, Elrond and I are still bound by our responsibilities to our realms and I must return to Mirkwood as soon as possible. Our separation will be particularly hard to bear this time but for the knowledge that we will soon meet again.”

There was such a melancholy quality to Thranduil’s voice that Arwen’s eyes filled with tears at the ache that she sensed reached to his very soul.

“I will make my peace with Adar, because I do love him dearly, but perhaps it would be easier for us all if I travelled to Lothlorien when you are visiting Imladris,” she said with as much compassion as she could muster in the face of her own agony. It was very little, and all she could offer, but it was enough.

“That arrangement will be satisfactory, but you need not go to Lothlorien now, in fact I ask that you stay to comfort Elrond, for I leave the day after tomorrow,” Thranduil said taking the outstretched hand that was offered and daring to place a light kiss on the back of Arwen’s fingers to seal their agreement.

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

Elrond’s joy and relief at his reconciliation with Arwen was overshadowed by the loneliness and despair that followed Thranduil’s departure. The lovers had spent their last day together alone in their chamber, making love and memories enough to last until their promised meeting in Mirkwood for the following Midsummer celebrations, but after only a few days of waking up alone, Elrond decided he could not wait that long and he began to make plans.

Well before the first snow fell and blocked the pass through the Misty Mountains, the Lord of Imladris, accompanied by his sons and as many guards as Glorfindel could spare for an extended visit, prepared to make their way to Mirkwood for the Yule festivities.

“Why are you not leading the escort?” Arwen asked Glorfindel, when she had finished waving farewell to the travellers as they rode through the stone archway.

“Your brothers are more than capable of performing in that capacity, and someone must remain behind to guard Imladris from the tyrant in black robes who is now in charge,” the seneschal answered lightly, causing Arwen to giggle at his unflattering, but accurate description of Erestor, at least as far as most Elves in Imladris were concerned.

“A tyrant am I? Such disrespect deserves punishment and I expect to see you in the office forthwith, Seneschal,” Erestor replied sternly, turning on his heel and striding back towards the house.

“Which office in particular when there are so many to chose from?” Glorfindel asked as he hurried to catch up with his lover who obligingly stopped walking so that he could press their bodies together in a crushing embrace.

“Surely you know the answer to that? I thought we decided that Elrond’s desk was just the right height for me when you were bent over it,” Erestor replied, winking suggestively as he began unlacing Glorfindel‘s tunic so that he could trace a line down his beloved’s chest with his tongue.

Fevered kisses and touches were wordlessly exchanged as they hurriedly made their way to Elrond’s office where, with a single sweep of his muscular arm, Glorfindel cleared he desk top. Erestor watched with lust darkened eyes while his now naked lover bent over to check the height before making further comment.

“Aye so it is,” he said, referring to the height. “If this is the kind of punishment you have in mind for me, then I expect to be very badly behaved for a very long time, possibly forever,” Glorfindel declared before claiming Erestor’s lips in another searing kiss that only served to fully ignite their ever simmering desire for one another.

“Definitely forever, my love,” Erestor sighed happily as he dropped his black robes carelessly to the floor and kicked them aside as he walked back to the door and turned the shiny new key in the freshly oiled lock.