ERESTOR/GLORFINDEL: WHAT WEBS WE WEAVE

Glorfindel retired to his bedchamber later in the evening. His day had been trying indeed, involving plenty of sword-practice, the lascivious attentions of both Erestor and Elladan, and even, now that he thought about it, Arwen, of all people. He was exhausted from having to deal with Erestor’s temper. And then his lover practically raped him against a wall. Then he had to deal with Elladan’s advances, and to Glorfindel’s mortification, he had lost control and had actually ejaculated in front of Elrond’s son on the training ground, like an animal. He sighed as he unbuckled his sword-belt and threw it down on his bed. He unsheathed his sword and carried it to a long, low table and laid it down on top of a linen cloth spread there for just that purpose.

His thoughts glossed over the events of the day, and thinking about them did not make him happy. He felt he was being treated as some sort of prize to be won by the best competitor in some sort of twisted game. He felt somehow diminished by the treatment of people who were supposed to be his friends. Turning to his tall looking-glass, he regarded his reflection with a critical gaze.

True, he was an impressive-looking Elf. His thick golden hair made him distinct. It fell wild and free, unbound, to his hips. When it became tangled, as it often did, it only served to make him look more attractive. His face was innocent-looking but rugged, a contradiction that made people curious about him. His large blue eyes held a look of candidness, but his large mouth often opened in a wide, lusty smile, giving him a look of open sexual invitation, even though that may not have been his intent when he smiled.

His body was well-toned, strong and muscular, his skin smooth and was an unusual golden color. It made people want to touch it. And his well-formed limbs, torso and hips made everyone wish to see him naked. He stripped off his clothes and looked at his reflection carefully. By Gods, he was filthy, he thought, and in good need of a bath. He crossed the floor to his wardrobe closet and chose a robe of dark blue velvet and shrugged it on, tying the sash tightly around his waist. Picking up a towel from his wash stand, he was just about to cross to the door when it opened and Elladan entered.

Glorfindel’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of the handsome, rugged warrior. If anyone was equal to Glorfindel in size and strength it was Elladan, as well as his twin brother, Elrohir. “What do you want, Elladan?” asked Glorfindel.

“You know what I want,” said Elladan, his voice husky. He smiled at Glorfindel with lustful intent.

“Elladan, I am filthy from all the dust that was blowing outside at practice today,” said Glorfindel with a sigh of exasperation. “I wish to bathe and wash away the grime and blood that covers my body. And then I want to go to bed.”

“Ai, Glorfindel, I love it when you talk that way,” whispered Elladan, beginning to strip off his clothing as he approached the golden Elf.

“Not now, Elladan!” cried Glorfindel, holding his palms up in protest. “Nor ever, come to think of it! Erestor will be furious and I dread to think of the consequences.”

“Erestor?” Elladan snorted with laughter. He removed the last of his clothing and flung himself down on Glorfindel’s bed. “Erestor is a mere scribe. He is no match for either of us in battle. Besides, you cannot tell me you would not like to experience me again this night,” and he lolled upon the bed, revealing his attributes most attractively to Glorfindel. The golden warrior gulped and turned away.

“Ah, you may try to avoid looking at me, Glorfindel,” said Elladan, but I can see the evidence of your interest poking out your robe in just the right place,” Elladan teased. “Besides, I have asked Father to squire Erestor away for the evening on some pretext of having to finish a paper for the historians’ meeting tomorrow.”

“I am going to the baths,” Glorfindel gasped, and bolted through the door, slamming it shut behind him. He leaned with his spine pressed into the frame, his head flung back against the wall, while his hand sought the hardness between his thighs, trying to press it down and extinguish his desire. Once he had managed this, he hurried as swiftly as possible to the bath house.

When he arrived, he was pleased to see that no one else was there. It was very late and he was glad that he had chosen this hour to come here because he wanted to be alone. With a sigh, he eased himself into the warm water and ducked his head beneath the surface, submerging his entire body. His hair floated around him like a golden cloud. It felt good to wash away the dirt of the training fields and let all his blood and sweat float away from him. He swam underwater all the way to the other end of the pool. When he surfaced, he grabbed a bottle of liquid soap from a basket that had been left on the edge by someone, and began to lather his hair and his upper body with it. He closed his eyes and ducked underwater again to rinse off the shampoo. When he surfaced and opened his eyes, he saw Arwen staring at him from the other end of the pool.

“Arwen!” he exclaimed. “Shouldn’t you be in the ladies’ bath house?”

“Do not worry. We are alone,” she said, and began to swim toward him. “When I saw you come in here from my bedroom window, I knew I had to come and be with you.”

“No, Arwen, stop!” he cried. “Do not do this! Get out!”

“Very well,” she said and swam to the side. She hoisted herself out of the pool to sit on its edge. Glorfindel gaped at the splendid beauty of her naked form.

The water streamed down Arwen’s goose bump-covered body. Her sleek black hair clung to her back, falling to her waist. She was voluptuous, her breasts full, her nipples long and tantalizingly erect. Her waist was slim and tapered down to her full, round hips. His glance traveled the length of her impossibly long legs, her thighs shapely and smooth. She sat with her knees demurely pressed together and shivered, her large breasts wobbling as she did so. “You are making me suffer needlessly, Glorfindel,” she whimpered. “It is cold out here. I would be warmer in your arms where I could comfort you.”

Glorfindel moaned and passed his hand over his eyes. “Arwen!” he shouted. “I cannot do this with you! I am promised to Erestor, and it is only Erestor that I desire! Now, please! Leave me alone! There are plenty of suitable Elves to whom you should give your attention! Why do you pick me?”

Arwen pouted. “You are the most rugged and manly Elf I know, outside of my brothers,” she said. “I am very much attracted to you. Do you not find me at all appealing?”

Glorfindel sighed. “Yes, Arwen, I do,” he admitted. “If I were not promised to Erestor I might indeed fancy you. But as it is –“

Just then the pool-room door opened and Elrohir entered. Arwen screamed, and trying to cover herself with her hands, jumped up and ran to retrieve her robes. “Elrohir!” she cried. “What are you doing here?”

Elrohir looked stunned to see his naked sister in the men’s bath house with Glorfindel. “Is it not I who should be asking you that question, Arwen?”

“Oh!” cried Arwen in exasperation. She quickly wrapped herself in her robe, picked up her towel and left in disgust.

Elrohir turned to Glorfindel with a surprised look on his face. “I did not know that you and my sister were involved,” he said.

Glorfindel sighed. “We are not involved, Elrohir,” he stated. “Not at all. She misunderstood my intentions the other day, that is all.” He sighed.

Elrohir smiled and doffed his robe. This twin had never made any advances toward Glorfindel; in fact, Glorfindel thought that he, unlike his brother, had no interest in him at all. He regarded Elrohir as the twin Elf stood naked at the opposite end of the pool, spreading some sort of oil all over his body. Elrohir did not seem to notice Glorfindel watching him. He slathered the oil over each arm, running his hand down the length of it. He then smeared the oil on his well-muscled chest and down the taut abdomen to splash it over his muscular thighs. He turned and bent to smooth it down his legs, giving Glorfindel an excellent view of his spread-cheeked backside. Elrohir had short, dark hair in the most fascinating places on his body, unlike Elladan, who shaved his.

Glorfindel was intrigued and felt himself becoming aroused beneath the surface of the water. He continued to watch. One of Elrohir’s hands snaked around to his buttocks and he massaged the oil carefully over each cheek. Glorfindel ducked his mouth below the surface in order to suppress a moan. Then Elrohir turned around and smiled at him before dropping the vial of oil and climbing down the steps into the water, gradually submerging his glorious body beneath the surface. Glorfindel tried to return his smile without revealing his lascivious interest.

Elrohir swam the length effortlessly with smooth strokes of his long arms and popped up beside Glorfindel. He swept a hand over his long, black hair, pushing it out of his face and behind him, and grinned at Glorfindel. “What say you to a race, Glorfindel?” he asked, his grey eyes twinkling.

“Er – no, better not,” said Glorfindel, his hand hiding the erection that pulsed below-water, his body tingling from the proximity of Elladan’s tasty twin. “I – I am very tired, and just wanted a quick bathe before I go to bed. I should be going now. Goodbye.”

Elrohir looked disappointed. Lines appeared in his forehead and his lips pursed in order to blow a stream of air across the surface of the water, causing ripples. “I hope you are not leaving out of embarrassment because I found you and Arwen together,” he said.

“No, not at all. Arwen and I are not a couple,” Glorfindel said firmly.

“Fine. Then I’ll see you tomorrow, probably,” said Elrohir, and swam to the other end of the pool.

Glorfindel sighed and hoisted himself out of the water to sit on the edge before he stood and walked stiffly to where he had dropped his robe and towel, trying to cover his erection with his hand. He did not look toward Elrohir, so he did not see that Elladan’s brother was watching him with great curiosity.

A few moments later, when Glorfindel reached his own room, he paused a moment to pray with fervent hope that Elladan would not be there. However, when he turned the handle and entered, he could see that Elladan was, indeed, still reposing upon his bed. “Elladan, I wish you would leave,” Glorfindel stated with a sigh. “You have managed to delay Erestor coming to my bedchamber with your chicanery, but the hour is late and he may yet arrive at any moment.”

“Oh, no,” laughed Elladan. “I have ensured that Father will be with him all night. Do not worry. We won’t be interrupted.”

Just then the door handle turned, and both Elves jumped with fright at the sound. Elladan grabbed the edge of Glorfindel’s bedspread and whisked it over himself, while Glorfindel clutched his robe tightly around him, and they both stared expectantly at the door.

The door swung open slowly as they watched in anticipation. A dark head poked around the corner. It was Elrohir.