Midsummer Heat

Title: Midsummer Heat (5/?)
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 5/?


Thranduil stepped out onto the balcony to allow the maid to proceed unhindered with her work, and as he gazed out over the peaceful valley, he replayed the conversation with Erestor in his mind. There was something disquieting about the whole incident, something that left him with a feeling that he could not put a name to. Perhaps it was the way advisor hinted that he knew of, or at least suspected the nature of the relationship that existed between Elrond and himself. Thranduil was certain his long time lover would not have mentioned it even to his advisor. They had both vowed to keep their silence ever since they had been forced to keep the love that had first bloomed at Dagorlad a secret from everyone once they learned that both Oropher and Gil-galad disapproved of their liaison. It was a bitter truth that the need to keep the lovers apart was the only thing his Adar and Elrond’s mentor could agree upon.

After the loss of both kings, the way became even harder for the two new rulers who were forced to accept that their lives would follow separate paths, no matter how much their hearts wished otherwise. As devoted as they were to each other, as much as they needed and wanted to be together, both knew their people needed them more and duty and responsibility came first. More than ever, secrecy was required as the two new rulers dealt with the aftermath of the war and the slow fading of the time of the elves as the shadow reappeared.

Thranduil had to admit that he had found a measure of love and happiness with his Queen, and aside from Elrond, there was no one more precious to Thranduil than his son. Elrond had found the same with Celebrían and adored his children beyond measure, but both ladies had quickly come to realise that as devoted as their husbands were to them and their children, the bond that had been forged in the moments of heated passion on the battlefield ran soul deep and could never be replaced.

So it was that over the centuries the two rulers had learned to become content with whatever stolen moments came their way. No one questioned the King’s reasons for taking the occasional lone hunting trip that invariably found him heading in the direction of the Misty Mountains, nor did they find it strange that he often visited his kinsman in Lothlorien. By the same token, Elrond’s trips to the Golden Wood or the days he would spend in seclusion, supposedly along the banks of the Bruinen were also dismissed as of little importance by everyone except Thranduil. Memories of lust filled reunions in the hidden glades of Lothlorien, or in the long coll grasses by the river, filled Thranduil’s mind and he ached to be back in his lover’s arms.

The young chamber maid, who eagerly sought to make amends for her neglect, was delighted to provide the King with directions to her lord’s study. Thranduil found the way easily, and was pleased to see the open door indicated Elrond was indeed inside. Without knocking, the king entered the chamber, closed the door, locking it without a sound and moved silently to stand behind his lover who was so engrossed in his book that he had not even bothered to sit. Nor did he seem surprised when strong arms encircled his waist from behind and soft lips nibbled their way down his neck. He closed his eyes and sighed with contentment as he leaned back against his captor.

“Guess who?” The warm breath of the sultry voice tickled his ear and a few strands of golden hair fell across his face. With a wicked gleam in his eye, Elrond decided to tease his lover a little.

“Glorfindel, you know what will happen if Erestor catches us!” he exclaimed in a husky whisper, knowing full well it could be none other than Thranduil who was making his heart race and his knees weak with desire. He felt himself being turned quickly in the embrace and before another word was spoken , his lips were claimed in a searing kiss that spoke of passion and a hint of jealousy and sent fire directly to his groin.

“Does the Balrog slayer feel like this,” Thranduil asked, plunging his tongue into the eager mouth of his lover as he rubbed the steel hard bulge in his leggings against that in Elrond’s.

“You would have to ask Erestor that question. Glorfindel is and always will be his alone.” Elrond replied in all seriousness as he caressed the face of his beloved.

“And you are mine,” Thranduil replied as he took the already swollen lips again, this time with a sweet tenderness that was almost Elrond’s undoing. Unable to resist the needful cries and soft moans, Thranduil picked his lover up and carried him to the soft rug that lay in front of the hearth. In between the kisses and increasingly erotic caresses, clothes were discarded and soon the sensuous touch of naked flesh writhing against naked flesh was not enough and Elrond begged his lover to take him.

“There is a phial of oil over there on the shelf where I keep my herbs,” he whispered between the gasps that escaped as a warm moistness licked weeping head of his erection. Even in his need to fill Elrond with his own hardness, Thranduil was not willing to do so without proper preparation, and he hastily went to retrieve the necessary oil. He picked up the little glass bottle and stumbled back as if he had been stabbed as he stared in disbelief at the very item Erestor had retrieved from the guest chambers.

No wonder the advisor had been so eager to leave after he had retrieved it, Thranduil thought, suddenly realising the truth. The phial belonged to Elrond and he had apparently left it behind after one of those trysts the advisor had mentioned. Perhaps Elrond had really believed it was Glorfindel who had crept up on him and had mistaken Thranduil for his new lover. Aye, that must be it, and Erestor was merely trying to protect them both by removing the evidence. So Glorfindel and Elrond had betrayed them both and instead of love and desire, anger and jealousy raged in his heart and without offering a word of explanation, he dressed hastily and stormed from the study, leaving a bewildered and very frustrated Elrond in his wake.

Blinded by the pain in his heart, and the tears in his eyes, Thranduil stumbled through the passageways, caring not who saw him nor where he was going but eventually unable to bear the ache that was engulfing his whole body, he slumped heavily against a door and wept.

“Do you hear that?” Erestor asked, reaching up to touch his lover’s cheek to draw him from his light reverie. They had moved from the balcony to the comfort of their bed and had spent the afternoon resting in each other’s arms, talking quietly about anything and everything, and sharing the occasional sweet kiss.

“Hmm, sounds like someone crying outside our door,” Glorfindel said as he took the willing lips in another kiss.

“We should see if whoever it is in need of assistance,” Erestor said as he reluctantly removed Glorfindel’s arms from around his waist. Glorfindel merely nodded his agreement and after donning their bed robes Erestor opened the door. With a look of undisguised astonishment, he quickly helped the distraught King of Mirkwood into the chamber. Glorfindel poured a small cup of miruvor and attempted to help Thranduil hold it while he drank, only to have it knocked angrily from his hands.

“Do not touch me, Balrog slayer!” Thranduil hissed with contempt. Glorfindel and Erestor exchanged a questioning glance, neither had any idea as to the cause of Thranduil’s current state.

“What has Glorfindel done to upset you, Thranduil?” Erestor asked, daring to offer another cup of miruvor to his friend.

“I do not wish to hurt you, my friend, but you should know he has betrayed you,” Thranduil replied sadly. The miruvor had calmed him slightly and now he felt compelled to warn his friend of his so called lover’s treachery. Glorfindel was about to protest but Erestor silenced him with a smile and a look that spoke of nothing but undying love and complete trust in his beloved.

“How? How has he betrayed me?” the advisor asked. Thranduil reached into his pocket and pulled out the phial.

“I know who owns this,” he said as if that was explanation enough.

“So do I, it belongs to Elrond,” Erestor stated, still uncertain as to what exactly Thranduil was thinking.

“Aye, and he was careless enough to leave it in my chambers after he and Glorfindel had used its contents,” Thranduil said. Erestor moved to take the stunned Glorfindel in his arms, and ignoring Thranduil for the moment, the advisor kissed his lover reassuringly. They had to tell the truth before things got even further out of hand. It was obvious Thranduil believed what he was saying, and neither wished to see Elrond suffer as a result of the misunderstanding.

“Nonsense, there was nothing left after he had finished with his ministrations on me," Eretor scoffed, hoping a little light heartedness would east the tension.

“There is no one else my body craves, and we do not confine our lovemaking to the bedchamber, as I am sure many will tell you,” added Glorfindel with a wink at Erestor who merely rolled his eyes.

“Besides, that is not the same phial I found in your bathing chamber, although it was crafted by the same artist. This is the one I found,” Erestor said as he retrieved Glorfindel’s matching phial from the bedside table.

Thranduil’s’ brow creased in confusion and he spent several minutes digesting this new information. So there were two phials, and the one Erestor had been so eager to remove was Glorfindel’s.

“It is mine, and I was as you say, careless enough to leave it behind, but had little thought for such when Erestor and I found ourselves in a rather compromising situation,” Glorfindel explained, exchanging an amused grin with his lover as they recalled the rush to leave the chamber. Thranduil was far from amused and turned as pale as Ithil’s light when he realised how he had left Elrond, and what anguish his lover must be suffering.

“I see, then please accept my apologies for my false accusations. I hope you will forgive me, Glorfindel,” Thranduil said.

“Of course, it was a simple mistake to make, but I what I do not understand is the distraught state you were in just now. I know you and Erestor are friends, but surely not that close?” Glorfindel asked, trying his hand at finding out more about Elrond and Thranduil It was obvious that the King had believed he was betrayed as well, even if he had not said as much.

Thranduil sensed a trap and was about to reply when an irate Elrond burst into the chamber and with a brief nod of acknowledgment to his friends, he turned to Thranduil.

“Your Majesty, please attend me in my study without delay. We need to discuss a matter of some urgency that has arisen.” The words were harshly spoken and in a tone not to be disobeyed, even by a king. As soon as he had finished speaking, Elrond stormed out of the chamber, not even bothering to ensure that Thranduil was following.