Midsummer Heat

Title: Midsummer Heat (4/?)
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 4/?

Thranduil’s arrival required that a feast of welcome be held this evening, and after a few words with the cook and other members of his staff responsible for the various preparations, Erestor was satisfied all was in order. He was particularly pleased to see the crate of wine from Thranduil’s cellars and the thought of the Wood Elf reminded Erestor of his recent discovery. He snorted with disgust at himself for not realising Elrond and the King had more in common than their love of an excellent vintage.

“Like their apparent love for each other! Or I wonder if it is merely lust, they both have wives in Valinor, after all. And how long has this been going on?” The more he thought about the revelation, the more curious he became, and although he had as good as told Elrond to mind his own business when it came to his and Glorfindel’s love life, he was sorely tempted to find answers to his questions. But the most pressing issue as far as the advisor was concerned was to discover how it was that Elrond had managed to keep this information from the one Elf in Imladris with a reputation for unsurpassed skills as an astute observer from whom not even the smallest secret could normally be hidden.

It was a matter of pride, and Erestor’s was hurt, not to mention the fact that his curiosity was piqued.

Knowing there was only one possible solution to assuage his battered ego, and not being one to avoid a confrontation, he decided to return to Thranduil’s chambers and simply ask Elrond and Thranduil to explain their relationship. A slight flush coloured his cheeks as he recalled exactly how he had found out about his lord and the king, and his body responded rapidly to the memory of Glorfindel’s loving ministrations, but he quickly put those thoughts aside for the moment. As he did the image that filled his mind of the way the water droplets made his lover’s skin glisten as he stepped from his bath, and how deliciously enticing his freshly washed hair would smell. Erestor groaned and closed his eyes against his lustful thoughts, for as much as he wanted to simply return to their chambers and kiss every inch of that glorious body, for the moment it was his curiosity that needed satisfying more.

But how to do so without admitting to what he and his beloved Balrog slayer had unashamedly witnessed from behind the bathing chamber door? Ever the cunning strategist, Erestor ‘s eyes lit up when he spied the basket of fruit that should have been taken to Thranduil’s chambers by the maid with whom he was no longer quite so annoyed. Her neglect had given him the perfect reason for interrupting the lovers and with the welcome gift for Thranduil on his arm, he took his leave of the kitchen staff and strode purposefully back to the guest chambers.

Hearing no whispers or moans of passion from within, Erestor imagined the sated lovers were still asleep, but was surprised at how quickly his loud knocking was answered by a fully dressed and immaculately groomed Thranduil.

“Greetings Sire and welcome to Imladris,” he said, handing over the fruit basket with a respectful bow.

“Greetings to you, Erestor. It has been far too long since we last met,” replied Thranduil as he accepted the gift and ushered the advisor into the chamber that Erestor quickly realised was empty except for King and himself.

“I apologise for not being on hand to welcome you when you arrived, but I was not expecting you so soon,” Erestor said as he sat in the chair that was offered.

“Aye, I heard that Glorfindel has just returned from several months on patrol, and I imagine he was ‘warmly’ welcomed home,” Thranduil said matter of factly, but his wicked smirk indicated there was no need for further explanation as to what had kept the advisor occupied. Erestor had made several diplomatic trips to Mirkwood over the centuries, and out of mutual respect, and a similarly dry wit, a friendship had also grown between Imladris’ advisor and the great forest’s King. Erestor blushed slightly at this veiled reference to his love life and decided to answer in kind.

“Indeed, however I trust your welcome by Elrond was equally as ‘warm’, and that your friendship was quickly renewed,” Erestor said smiling inwardly at the colour Thranduil was unable to prevent from spreading to his own cheeks. Elrond had assured him that no one knew of their most recent liaison, nor of the real nature of their relationship, but Erestor not one to be easily deceived and his comment made Thranduil feel decidedly uncomfortable. The advisor seemed far too suspicious.

“Your lord was as courteous and amicable as ever in his greeting and as he showed me to these chambers, which are more than satisfactory, I must say. I am most impressed with what I have so far seen of Imladris and its lord,” Thranduil replied with a sincerity that touched Erestor.

“Such a compliment will no doubt please Elrond, he is very proud of all he has achieved. I am sure he will make every effort to see your first visit here is as pleasing as possible.”
There was innuendo in the words, or so it seemed, but Thranduil was willing to dismiss it as over reaction on his part.

“As he has already shown. However there is a small matter that requires attention. The lock on the door seems to be in need of repair,” Thranduil said, deftly steering the conversation into matters more mundane. Erestor’s eyes glittered with amusement at the innocent response and he could not help a brief snicker as he was sorely tempted to point out that when a locked door was forcibly kicked open by lovers eager to ravish each other; it stood to reason the latch would break.

“I will have it tended to immediately,” he replied. “I have not seen Elrond since earlier this morning, I do not suppose he mentioned where he could be found?”


After they had awoken from their brief rest following their wildly passionate reunion, discretion had dictated Elrond leave. He had done so reluctantly, but promised that after he had seen to the remaining tasks he had scheduled for the day he would retire to his chamber to await a further visit from his honoured guest.

“I believe there was someone needing his ministrations as a healer. Perhaps the healing halls?” Thranduil suggested it was not entirely the truth, although Elrond had mentioned something about needing to replenish his supply of a healing powder that was particularly effective for those aches commonly experience by lovers.

“Thank you, I shall seek him there should I have need,” Erestor said as he stood to leave. It was obvious he would learn nothing more from Thranduil.

A brief glimmer of sunlight reflecting from glass in the next chamber caught his eye and his heart began racing as he instantly recognised the small crystal vial that lay beneath the small table in the corner, where it had been inadvertently left in their haste to avoid discovery. The exquisitely cut glass bottle had been an anniversary gift from Elrond and would present irrefutable evidence to their friend that his advisor and Glorfindel had been there earlier.

“Is something amiss?” Thranduil asked as he noticed the startled look the dark eyes could not hide.

“Only that I see the maid failed to adequately clean your bathing chamber,” Erestor replied, cringing when, following the direction of the advisor’s gaze, the Woodland King spotted a pretty little glass vial which he picked up and studied closely.

“This is beautifully crafted. I take it that it is a container for a ‘special’ kind of oil?” Thranduil asked, his raised eyebrow indicating he knew the purpose of both the flask and its contents.

“Aye, it is not unusual for lovers to use unoccupied chambers for a midnight tryst,” Eretor explained as he took the offered vial and picked up the discarded bathing sheets.
“I must apologise. It appears the cleaning of this chamber was overlooked. I will send a maid to render the problem immediately.”

“’Tis of no matter, I am afraid it is in such a state because I have already bathed since my arrival.” Erestor’s eyes widened at that revelation and silently thanked the Valar that no mention was made of the damning evidence.

“Nonetheless, I will send someone to tend to the chamber as well the lock,” the advisor repeated as he hastily made his way to the door, the vial tucked safely in the pocket of his robe.


As promised, Erestor immediately sent one of the maids to Thranduil’s chambers and after organising for a smith to repair the lock, he hastily returned to the chambers he and Glorfindel shared.

“Is that you, love? Come and join me!” the golden voice of his beloved called from the balcony. Erestor stopped only long enough to remove his robes and don a pair of pants that were the twin for those Glorfindel wore before stepping through the archway and into his lover’s waiting arms.

Several long and passionate kisses later, they settled on the lounge, with its many cushions and enough width for two. The single item of furniture had long since replaced the armchairs that had been far too uncomfortable for anything but sitting on, not to mention being nowhere near sturdy enough to survive the weight of two bodies entwined in particularly ardent love making sessions.

Yet, as much as they revelled in their shared pleasures of the flesh, it was the simple act of being held in a lover’s embrace, of feeling the gentle rhythm of hearts that beat as one that defined the depth of their love. The quiet moments were cherished as were the heartfelt declarations of love made not in the throes of passion, but in those special moments when no one else, nothing else, existed but the two who were soul mates. Such was this moment, as they lay side by side on the lounge, legs entwined and arms holding each other close but it ended when Glorfindel spoke.

“I was hoping you would join me in my bath,” he whispered against the ebony silk that rested on his shoulder.

“I wanted to but I decided a visit to Thranduil’s chamber was in order.”

“Ai, my ever curious advisor. Did you learn anything of interest?” Erestor sighed with contentment at how well Glorfindel knew him. The seneschal understood the meaning of the sigh and kissed his lover’s hair. Wishing for more intimate contact, he tenderly stroked Erestor’s naked chest, teasing the erect nipples by squeezing them tightly then licking them.

“Aye…Oh Glorfindel, that feel wonderful. “ Erestor moaned, using his lips shower his lover’s neck with tiny kisses before sucking none too gently on the soft flesh at the base of his neck. After marking his lover with a small bruise, he stopped in his ministrations and began to laugh softly.

“What is so amusing?” Glorfindel enquired, frowning at the change in Erestor’s mood that neither he nor the engorged member between his legs appreciated.

“The bath. I am afraid that had I joined you it would have been a rather frustrating experience for us both, considering this was still in Thranduil’s chamber,” he explained as he handed Glorfindel the small vial that had the potential to cause much embarrassment, if not ill feelings, between certain pairs of lovers.

“We are fortunate that Elrond did not see this, although Thranduil did,” he warned.

“Aye and we are also fortunate that we have plenty of alternatives,” Glorfindel said, as he tipped the vial upside down to reveal it was empty. He dismissed the find with a shrug and licked his lips suggestively.

“You are insatiable!” Erestor declared his eyes darkened with lust as he felt the touch of Glorfindel’s hardness against his own through the flimsy fabric that was quickly removed to allow a more sensuous contact between the silk covered steel of their cocks.

“And only you can feed my hunger,” he said, claiming his lover’s lips in a deep and bruising kiss that emphasised his need and left Erestor powerless to resist.

“Then taste this,” Erestor growled wantonly as he moved to straddle his lover’s hips so that he could writhe against the object of his desire before taking it inside with one quick movement. So intense was the passion that burned in their blood, so strong their need that it took only a few hard, deep thrusts by Erestor, accompanied by firm strokes of Glorfindel’s hand before their voices were raised in ecstatic cries of completion.