Something Special, Something Sacred

Imladris, Third Age 2032

Glorfindel walked into his office, tossing the ledger from Erestor's study onto his desk. He sighed as he sat heavily in his chair and opened the book, looking over the Advisor's spending allotment for Imladris' defense. He looked out the window at the meadow that spread bright and green along the front of the Last Homely House. Celebrian sat beneath a tree, Arwen and Elrond flanking her, and the twins sparring before their family. A smile came to his face, and he let his mind wander.

Erestor had left Imladris the previous week for a month in Lorien. His lover was to attend a meeting in Elrond's stead, though Erestor had not looked forward to the journey. The Noldo did not travel much, and only when he had to. Glorfindel's eyes glazed over as he thought back on the evening before Erestor set off for Celeborn's land.

~~~~~~~~~~

Erestor smiled down at him, and Glorfindel felt a small whimper escape his lips. He looked up into the dark eyes, just as steady and unwavering as the Noldo himself. The moonlight drenched the room, a stray beam illuminating the two figures on the bed, nude and moving in tandem. Glorfindel tightened his legs around Erestor's waist, arching his back to bring more of his chest in contact with his lover's lips. His hands were buried in Erestor's dark hair and he panted words of love and devotion to the dark god.

The Noldo took him in hand, his thumb sweeping over the moist head and his strokes milking more from him. Glorfindel's release built swiftly, as it always did when Erestor took him, and he cried out his bliss as warmth spilled onto his belly. Erestor groaned deep in his throat, and Glorfindel shuddered to feel Erestor's seed fill him. A month without his lover, his master, seemed an eternity to the Elda.

Gentle kisses were given and loving words whispered. As the midnight hour approached, the lovers drifted into a contented sleep in each other's arms.

Glorfindel woke with the dawn to find Erestor already departed. That was not unusual; travelers would often leave Imladris before first light because safety was assured within the valley. Glorfindel stretched and wiped the last of the sleep from his eyes. His gaze fell across a note that had been placed on his bedside table. Erestor's fastidious handwriting glistened on the page as he picked up the small parchment scrap.

"Glorfindel, my love," Glorfindel read silently. "I will miss you while I am away, and I will think of you often. I will be most pleased if you will follow these instructions until I return. Before you retire for the evening, thoroughly dust and sweep the playroom and make sure to oil all the equipment. Also, you are not permitted to find any form of release for the duration of my absence. I want you desperate and wanting upon my return. Melin chen, Erestor."

~~~~~~~~~~

Three more weeks.

That was all he had to wait, and Erestor would return. The Elda shifted slightly, his arousal pressing uncomfortably against the suede of his breeches. The temptation to simply unlace the fabric and bring himself to a quick release was almost too much, but he resisted. The punishment Erestor would devise would not be something he would enjoy, and Glorfindel did not want to think on what the Noldo could conjure as a suitable penance for his transgression. He could not lie to his lover, and the damage such an act would cause was more than Glorfindel was willing to risk.

Glorfindel sighed and turned his eyes back to the accounting ledger, working through the budget the Advisor had allotted.

*****

Anor was just beginning to sink below the horizon when the Seneschal looked up from his work. He cast his eyes out the window to the dying embers of the sun and saw the night patrol mounting their horses, ready to ride out to the border station. Glorfindel scowled in their direction, making note of how late they were leaving. He would need to speak to the watch commander when they returned; the night patrol should not leave so late to relieve their comrades. Before they began riding, though, Glorfindel could plainly hear hoof beats. A moment later, eight horses thundered down the path, and Glorfindel clearly recognized them as the members of the day patrol.

Which meant that the border was currently unguarded.

Glorfindel was suddenly so angry that he threw his papers aside and leapt from the open window, dropping the few feet to the ground and sprinting across the clearing toward the congregated Elves. Several members of the night patrol heard the approach and turned their confused gazes from the entering day watch to the enraged Seneschal barreling down upon them.

"What in Elbereth's name?!" Glorfindel bellowed, his voice exploding over all other sound. The day patrol reared their horses, startled; there could be no doubt that the ire in the Elda's voice was directed at them.

"Those had better be corpses sitting on those horses!" Glorfindel continued. "Because there is no other acceptable reason for deserting your post before you are relieved!"

"But, my Lord," stammered the watch commander, "Anor has set! Our patrol time has ended. My troop is exhausted, Híren!"

"I do not care if your troop has not rested for three days, Îdhren! Under no circumstances do you leave the border unguarded! What matter is it to me that Anor sleeps? If the night patrol does not appear until the middle of Ithil's journey, then you stay at the border until then! If you must throw yourself from your mount in order to remain awake and alert, then I expect to see you covered in mud upon your return!" Glorfindel turned his attention to the other members of the errant patrol. "You are all suspended from duty for a fortnight. All benefits of rank and privilege will be denied to you during that time. And you, Îdhren," the Seneschal spat, looking again at the commander, "you are relieved of your commanding responsibilities and are reassigned to internal security. I will not have a watch commander who is afraid of the darkness!"

"Aye, Híren," Îdhren said dejectedly, and the other seven Elves echoed the acknowledgement with similar defeat in their voices.

Glorfindel scowled one final time at the offenders, then ordered the night patrol to make haste to the border "as though the Dark Lord Himself were tight on your heels". The rage within him did not begin to dissipate until he heard the sounds of the night patrol fading in the distance. Even then, his fists clenched and unclenched repeatedly on the long walk around the grounds to the nearest entrance door.

He decided that he was far too angry to concentrate on his work any further, so he returned to his office only long enough to shut the windows, douse the candles, and sigh heavily at the amount of work still left to do. He stopped by the kitchens on the way to his room and apportioned a plate of apple slices, cheese and bread. Back in his room, he quickly shed his uniform and slipped into one of his dressing gowns, deliberately selecting the cobalt-blue silk that Erestor had always seemed to favor. He sat in an overstuffed chair and ate his meager dinner as he thumbed idly through one of the massive historical tomes that Erestor seemed to find so fascinating. When he felt his eyes begin to droop, Glorfindel forced himself into alertness for a few more minutes. He had to complete his tasks before he could allow himself to rest.

Glorfindel paused at the door of the playroom. He untied the light dressing gown and hung it on the hook just inside the room, removing the collar that was already hanging there. He very carefully fastened the leather strap around his neck, shivering slightly at its familiar weight, and tied up his hair into a crude knot. The cleaning supplies were in the armoire just where he'd left them the night before. He brought out the duster and began to gently clean away the tiny amounts of dust that had settled on the equipment and furnishing since the previous night. As he cleaned, though, his mind wandered back to various sessions he had with the Advisor in this room, and his arousal mounted quickly. Once finished the dusting, Glorfindel took great care in oiling the already-glistening hinges and joints of all the freestanding equipment, his hard length bobbing freely with his movements and causing him further discomfort. Finally, he used the broom in the corner to sweep away what little dust he had dislodged onto the floor.

Satisfied with the result, Glorfindel left the room as he did every night this past week, with his dressing gown hanging and the collar affixed to his neck. His erection was painfully insistent, but he forced the thought from his mind. Remembrances of past nights with Erestor, Glorfindel reminded himself, and the knowledge that Erestor would be pleased with him were all the comforts that he needed.

He climbed onto the large bed, still elegantly made from the morning that Erestor left. Glorfindel had not slept under the thick blankets and fine sheets for eight days, preferring instead, as he did now, to curl up at the bottom of Erestor's side of the bed. He fell quickly asleep as his fingers delicately traced the line of his collar.

Three more weeks.

TBC...