Lessons on Life, Lessons in Love

A/N: This was written for Jean for the February Lindir Yahoo Group list challenge; she requested a story involving Glorfindel/Erestor/Lindir and no PWP. Valar, did this story give me and my muses headaches! But it's finished and she loved it! Now it's time to share.

For those who have read 'Emerald Orbs and Mithril Waves,' this story can be seen as a semi-prequel, as it takes place when Lindir is 55 and has subtle hints of a love at first sight setting (which, for those who read EOaMW, that's what happened between Lindir and Rumil).

Lessons on Life, Lessons in Love
Glorfindel/Erestor/Lindir

His fifty-fifth year was fast approaching; barely past his majority, Lindir felt his childhood was behind him. Yet, at the same time, his life stretched ahead and just beyond his grasp. Though already given the position of minstrel to the House of Elrond--a high honor at his young age, to be sure--there were things about life Lindir could not begin to understand. They were things one couldn’t understand without the help of one--or maybe two--who knew more about the world.

He had admired them all his young years, couldn‘t even remember when it had all started. As long as Lindir could recall, both Lords Glorfindel and Erestor had fascinated the young Elf. It was difficult to not like them, Lindir had quickly realized. Both Glorfindel and Erestor possessed many admirable traits. The elven lords were wonderful teachers as well as loyal friends. They were also beautiful and were often pursued by males and females alike. Neither the seneschal nor the advisor had taken a lover, however, and the idea rather puzzled Lindir.

It was early one spring just after the morning meal that Lindir found himself wandering the gardens. He had the day to himself, and in the evening he would perform for the household. Lindir often found it difficult to be bored when there were so many things to occupy his mind and his time. Quiet walks through the gardens suited the Elf just fine, and one would usually be able to find him there or in the musicians’ hall practicing. This day the white-haired Elf found that he was not the only one partaking of Arda’s beauty--or at least the pleasant weather.

Couples surrounded the lone Elf, giggling and whispering to one another, occasionally sharing a shy kiss when they believed no one was looking. Love was in the air, and suddenly Lindir found himself wondering about the foreign emotion. He loved his parents and friends; yet Lindir had never been *in love.* It was a strange thing to him, something that, naturally, he wanted to discover as much as he could about.

A thousand questions whirled through his mind regarding the matter at hand. What was love like? How do you know you are in love? What do you do when you are in love with someone? Lindir had often seen his parents share whispered endearments and tender touches, all of which made him smile at their tenderness and care. But many of the couples Lindir passed by were showing their affection with a great deal of fervor. He knew his parents shared the same love as all the couples, but they were content with tenderness. And the couples…well, they were hardly what Lindir would consider ‘tender’ at times. Their actions puzzled the young Elf, leaving him deep in thought as he walked the paths.

“Lindir?”

The gentle voice sounding so very close startled the white-haired Elf. He had not expected Glorfindel to sneak up on him, but the seneschal had indeed done just that. The golden-haired Elda stood behind Lindir, azure eyes curiously staring at him.

“Lord Glorfindel,” Lindir said softly, lowering his eyes for the briefest of moments in respect to the elder Elf.

“You look thoughtful,” Glorfindel remarked, taking a step forward. “Does anythingubleuble you?” He had been on his way from the manor to the stables to visit Asfaloth when Glorfindel had noticed the pensive look in Lindir’s eyes. He, like many in Imladris, adored the young minstrel for his wit and his talent. Few could match Lindir’s skill with song, harp and flute; Glorfindel enjoyed listening to the young Elf perform as much as he enjoyed training with his warriors.

“Nay, my Lord. Nothing too…disturbing.” Lindir fidgeted nervouslth tth the sleeve of his tunic as he weathered the seneschal’s gaze.

Glorfindel arched a golden eyebrow, gazing down skeptically at the slightly shorter Elf. “You are sure?”

Lindir debated on voicing his question towards the seneschal; after all, there was the chance that Glorfindel would come to view Lindir as nothing more than an immature child. One part of him chastised the minstrel, telling Lindir that Glorfindel would never see him as such. But another part was not fully convinced and desired to remain silent.

The seneschal of Imladris could clearly see that something was bothering young Lindir. The younger Elf was reluctant to speak about what was on his mind, but Glorfindel would found out soon enough. He never could take no for an answer, a trait Erestor often teased him about.

“Lindir,” the golden-haired Elf said, gently placing a hand on the white-haired Elf’s shoulder. “You do know that you can ask me anything, don’t you? I won’t turn you away; you don‘t have to be embarrassed in front of me.”

“I know that, my Lord. It is just…”

“Just what? What is it?”

Again, Lindir warred with himself as to whether to ask Glorfindel or not. The time and place just did not seem appropriate at the moment. “May I ask you later? After the evening meal and the gathering in the Halls of Fire?”

“I am keeping company with Erestor this eve.”

Lindir almost faltered and retracted his request. He didn’t want both Elves to know about his curious questions. But perhaps Lord Erestor would be able to help him as well; there was a reason the raven-haired Elf was Elrond‘s chief advisor. “Then, may I speak with both of you?”

Glorfindel could see the conflict in Lindir’s emerald eyes, but made no mention of it. Instead he smiled gently as he made his reply. “Of course, pen-neth. We would be delighted to help you in whatever way we may. Meet me in my chambers after everyone has retired, and we will speak then.” Glorfindel’s smile broadened as he returned the one the young minstrel gave before Lindir sought to return to the manor. “Lindir?”

Glorfindel’s voice halted Lindir in his tracks. Tilting his head, the white-haired Elf gazed over his shoulder and waited patiently for the seneschal to continue as he regarded him curiously.

“I look forward to your performance tonight,” Glorfindel said kindly before smiling again and continuing on his waye lee left Lindir standing stunned, a fierce blush on the young face. The shock gave way to giggles as the young Elf all but skipped back to the manor in delight.

~~~~~~~~~~

The manor was quiet as he journeyed soundlessly through the halls. Once his performance had been over, Lindir had noticed Glorfindel and Erestor leave together, followed by some other Elves as they retired for the night. The young minstrel had been implored to give an encore of some of his songs, which he obligingly did. As the fires of the hall dimmed, the last lingering Elves left; Lindir had stayed a moment longer to stoke the flames, which were to never go out. After which he had snuffed out the candles and left the Hall of Fire, quietly closing the doors behind him before he made his way to Glorfindel’s chambers.

Nervousness made itself present the moment Lindir stepped in front of the carved oak doors that led to Glorfindel’s chambers. In an attempt to compose himself, the young Elf gently ran his fingertips over the intricately detailed surface; in the very center of the elaborate scrollwork was carved an eight petal flower inlaid with gold, which caused a smile to curve upon Lindir‘s lips.

“The golden flower,” Lindir whispered, remembering stories from his early youth of the chief of the house in Gondolin, the very Elf whose chambers he was about to enter. Taking a deep breath, he raised a slender pale hand and knocked twice, the sound echoing slightly through the otherwise silent corridor.

“Enter.”

Lindir’s brow furrowed for a moment at the voice, wondering why it was not the golden-haired seneschal who had invited him entrance. Then he remembered Erestor, who had left with Glorfindel when the main performance in the Hall of Fire had ended. Taking another breath to calm himself, Lindir quietly pressed down on the door handle and pushed against the oaken door as he stepped inside.

“Lindir, I was wondering when you would arrive,” Erestor said, looking up from the book in his lap as he sat in a plush velvet chair near the hearth. He smiled kindly at the white-haired Elf as Lindir closed the door and stepped closer. Noting the other’s nervousness and remembering Glorfindel’s ear wor words to him, Erestor closed his book and set it aside before motioning Lindir closer. “Glorfindel tells me there is something you wish to ask of us.”

“Aye, my Lord,” Lindir said, sitting in a chair across from the chief advisor.

“Lindir, there is no need for titles here. Please, for this evening and whenever we are not at our respective duties, call me Erestor.”

The minstrel merely nodded as he gazed around the spacious room, noting the large intricately carved bed--just as elaborate as the door--as well as all the little trinkets that were scattered about the room. Everything in the bed chamber had a history with the Elda, some Lindir couldn’t even begin to imagine and the idea somewhat intimidated him; his slightly fearful expression did not go unnoticed by Erestor.

“You need not be frightened of what you see in here.” Erestor’s hand made a sweep of the room, stopping at a pair of crossed swords over the fireplace mantle. “These were all either Glorfindel’s things in Gondolin, or those that belonged to his closest friends.”

“Gondolin was destroyed,” Lindir said in a saddened tone. “How did they all survive the fall?”

“They are small memorabilia, as you can see. Most were carried in pockets or stowed hurriedly in packs when the inhabitants were readying for battle or attempting to escape. Others I went back and found long years later in secrecy.”

“You were from Gondolin, Erestor?”

Erestor smiled upon seeing the surprised expression in the wide emerald eyes that stared at him. “Aye, I was. I was but a child when the city fell. Glorfindel and Ecthelion were my heroes, and I would try to follow them everywhere. I grieved when I learned they had both died. But the day Glorfindel came to Imladris was a happy day for me despite the dire times; we’ve become great friends since, talking often of the city and its people that we both loved.”

“I had heard that Glorfindel and Ecthelion were lovers, but no one seems to be able to confirm this.”

“It is true, pen-neth. Though they attempted to hide the fact from most of Gondolin, there were some who knew, such as Turgon’s household, the captains of Gondolin and certain members of the Houses oe Goe Golden Flower and Fountain.”

“What kind of love was it?” Lindir was inued.ued. Here he was presented with an opportunity to explore love, an emotion he hardly understood. What better way to learn that to hear of a love between two of Gondolin’s greatest?

“I am not sure I am the person who should be telling you this.”

“Oh, go on, Erestor.”

Both seated Elves turned to thice ice and found Glorfindel leaning against the doorframe to the bathroom, a smirk on his face and damp hair clinging to his back and neck. Slowly he walked over to the pair, and sat on the floor with his back to the hearth, the fire slowly drying his golden locks.

“You are a magnificent storyteller, Erestor,” Glorfindel said with a smile. “I can think of no one better to tell of my love affair with the fair Lord of the Fountain.”

“Love affair indeed,” Erestor retorted with a roll of his eyes. “It was no mere ‘affair,’ Glorfindel. I may have been but a child then, but I fully understood what the two of you felt for one another. You were so obvious sometimes that it was a wonder most of Gondolin was kept in the dark about your relationship som some four hundred years! Affair indeed.”

“Then please enlighten Lindir on the matter, mellon; he looks as if he’s dying to know. Tell him what ‘most of Gondolin’ failed to notice.”

Lindir blushed as the two elven lords turned to him, kind smiles on their faces. He wasn’t sure if they discovered what is was he had come to them for, or if this was all a mere coincidence. But he wanted to learn more so merely nodded his head to indicate for Erestor to continue.

“Well, I can’t tell you much, Lindir,” Erestor began. “I was only a child when Gondolin fell. I only had fourteen years to know Glorfindel and Ecthelion, and they had been together for ages before I came into the world. What I do know is that few in the city speculated at their true relationship with one another, but I knew. My parents always said I was a sharp child so it wasn’t long before I grew aware of what really went on between two of Gondolin’s greatest captains.”

“I loved him dearly,” Glorfindel whispered in a saddened voice. “I still love him to this day, and I miss him. But Ecthelion would have wanted me to love again. I try to honor his memory, but truth be told my heart can never belong to anyone else.”

The young minstrel listened closely, noting the look of longing and love that lingered in the seneschal’s eyes. There was a great deal of affection within the azure depths, love for someone who no longer walked Arda’s lands. “When did you start loving him?” Lindir asked.

“When did I start? I honestly don’t recall, pen-neth. I met him when I was a child and felt at peace in his presence. Ecthelion and I grew to be great friends, but then one day we both realized there was something more between us. Neither one of us could ever determine when our feelings changed. But they did, and we didn’t fight them.”

“But how did you know what love was?”

Both elder Elves turto Lto Lindir, pinning him with their gazes. It was well-known that Glorfindel and Erestor were very observant, one from instinct and the other from experience. Realization dawned on each of their faces the longer they stared at the minstrel.

“Lindir,” Erestor said. “Did you come to us to ask us what love is?”

Emerald eyes shifted to the ground, Lindir no longer able to return their gazes. He nodded his head slowly but refused to look up again and did not notice the looks the elder Elves exchanged.

“You don’t *know*,” Glorfindel said gently. “You *feel.*”

“I…don’t understand.”

“Love, pen-neth, is something you feel here.” A slender hand covered Glorfindel’s heart as he spoke to the minstrel. “You feel it before you know it is there. When you realize you are in love, you are never able to tell when that emotion began, how or why you feel what you do. Your heart tells you when you love someone, not your head.”

“What do you do when you love someone?”

“What do you do?” Erestor asked, his voice hiding none of his surprise. He wondered how to begin, and found himself stuttering the next time he opened his mouth. “Well…you tell them. And then…then…”

“Then?”

A soft blush was beginning to creep over the advisor’s face; this was not how he wanted this discussion to proceed! Lindir was asking questions that both Erestor and Glorfindel knew someone of the minstrel’s age would ask out of curiosity. All the same, it was difficult to approach the subject, made even more burdensome since neither the counselor nor the seneschal were Lindir’s parents.

“Lindir,” Glorfindel’s voice gently cut in. “Is there someone you love? Is that why you are asking us these questions?”

The white head slowly shook from side-to-side, Lindir’s gaze never lifting from where it was fixated upon the floor. “Nay, there is no one. But I walk the gardens day-by-day and see others who seem to be in love. I know one day it will be I in that situation, but I don’t know what to do when that happens.”

“You will know when the time comes, pen-neth. You will know because your heart will tell you.”

“I would like to know now. Is there nothing else you can tell me?”

“Tell, no.”

“Then…can you show me?”

The elder Elves exchanged another look, this one full of surprise and uncertainty.

“Lindir,” Erestor said, leaning forward in his chair. “I don’t think that is something appropriate for us to do.”

“But I would like to know!” the minstrel protested, finally looking at the pair. “I want to know what to do. I don’t understand any of this.”

“You don’t understand because you haven’t experienced love,” Glorfindel reprimanded gently.

“But I would like to try to understand.”

Erestor sighed, at a loss of what to do. He wanted to help the younger Elf, he truly did. But how could he do so without offending Lindir, and resenting himself later for doing so? What Lindir was asking--did he even know?--was for Glorfindel and Erestor to show him things only lovers do. Neither of them were lovers; Glorfindel’s heart belonged to Ecthelion and always would, and Erestor knew his heart lay elsewhere, though he had not encountered it yet. But both advisor and seneschal could never deny someone in need. Perhaps, for one night, they could help the minstrel, teach him what he needed to know and set him on the right path. Perhaps it would be a night they would all remember fondly in days to come. When times seem dait wit would be a memory to light the way. Perhaps they could do this.

Glorfindel noticed the look in Erestor’s eyes and nodded absentmindedly. During days when loneliness and grief threatened to consume him, the golden-haired Elf sought out the only other person who could ease his heart and share his burden. Though Erestor had been a child, he knew of the love Glorfindel felt in his heart, understood the loss that accompanied it. Ecthelion would never begrudge him his happiness, and Glorfindel had often sought solace in Erestor’s embrace. The two of them, together, would be able to show how tender and kind love could be.

Slipping out of his chair, Glorfindel knelt upon the floor. He clasped Lindir’s slender hands in his sword roughened palms, forcing the minstrel to look directly at him. With a gentle, kind smile, Glorfindel leaned forward and quickly but tenderly captured Lindir’s lips with his own, swallowing the gasp of surprise the younger Elf issued. His hold on the minstrel’s hands prevented Lindir from escaping; Glorfindel gently tugged, bringing the white-haired Elf closer when Lindir tried to move back.

Glorfindel’s strong hold gave him no means of escape. Lindir was confused as to what was happening, all he wanted was to pull away and ask when the seneschal was doing. A gentle hand rested on his back, and the minstrel turned his eyes to Erestor even as Glorfindel continued to kiss him. There was warmth and kindness in the gray depths as the advisor smiled at Lindir. The dark head nodded once before Erestor leaned closer, and bestowed a loving kiss to Lindir’s hair. A moment later Glorfindel released him, and the young Elf could do nothing but stare at his companions.

“What…”

“We cannot tell you what love is, Lindir,” Erestor said, rubbing soothing circles upon the other Elf’s back. “But we can show you.”

“But…”

“We wish to show you,” Glorfindel interrupted. “Let us show you what love really is.”

He hesitated, unsure if this all should really happen. Lindir was uncertain as to what would take place, but his curiosity was quickly overwhelming his rationality. He wanted to know, had to know. And he had asked them for help. Slowly, with a soft blush upon his fair cheeks, he nodded as emerald eyes slowly closed. Again soft lips descended upon his own, only this time it was Erestor who gave the kiss whilst Glorfindel slowly pulled the other two towards the large, canopy bed.

The seneschal sat back upon the mattress, resting his back against the headboard whilst pulling Lindir into his lap. The minstrel complied but was reluctant to break the kiss Erestor was bestowing upon him; the advisor also seemed reluctant to part, slowly following Lindir as he crawled on hands and knees. Glorfindel found the entire scene highly amusing, grinning wickedly into Lindir’s snow-white locks as he placed soft kisses upon the younger Elf’s neck.

“I see you are enjoying this,” the seneschal whispered, grinning smugly when the young Elf in his arms moaned in the affirmative. “Erestor, I do believe the both of you need to breathe.”

The dark-haired Elf chose to ignore the Elda for a brief moment as he let the kiss linger on. Soon he pulled away, gazing into darkened green eyes and flushed cheeks. Erestor’s kiss swollen lips quirked upward at the adoring sight before he leaned forward and briefly captured Glorfindel’s lips. “You speak far too much sometimes, my dear Glorfindel,” Erestor teased.

“I thought you liked it when I talked.”

“Ah, but you always speak at the most inopportune of moments.”

“I resent that.”

“I knew you would.”

Lindir listened to the light-hearted bantering and giggled softly. He was enjoying this little ‘session’ and b to to wonder what was in store for him. Glorfindel answered that question for him when the golden-haired Elf claimed the minstrel’s lips in a bruising kiss. Lindir melted against the other Elf as his lips were ravished, a part of his mind vaguely registering Erestor’s hands on his person as the advisor quickly divested all three of them of their clothing. The white-haired Elf shuddered as warm skin brushed against his own, his arousal growing and his flesh hardening at the alien but not unwelcome sensations the seneschal and advisor were making him feel.

Gentle hands began to roam over his skin, eliciting mews and moans from the young minstrel and causing Glorfindel to smile. He was well aware of how talented Erestor was with hisds, ds, knew how the advisor could bring someone to their peak with just a simple touch. The lithe body in his arms began to squirm, and Glorfindel left the supple lips with a smile.

“Do you like that, Lindir?” Erestor whispered into a pointed ear whilst his fingertips left feather light touches over the minstrel’s chest. He seductively licked the peaked tip, driving a moan of need and want from the younger Elf’s lips. “Touch me, Lindir. Touch me as if I were your lover.”

Glorfindel noticed the hesitation the instant it appeared in the emerald pools. Wrapping an arm around the slim waist, he whispered into Lindir’s other ear. “Always listen to your partner,” he instructed. “They will tell you what they want. Do not deny them.”

Listening carefully to Glorfindel’s words and remembering the ‘lesson’ he was being taught, Lindir nodded as he reached for Erestor with a slightly trembling hand. Slender fingers encountered soft, warm skin; idly Lindir drew grapevines over Erestor’s shoulder, descending lower with each vine curl. Soon he was playing with the advisor’s chest, smoothing his palm over a flat abdomen.

His knuckles encountered something hard; Lindir’s hand stilled when he touched Erestor’s erection, but one nod from the dark-haired Elf urged him to continue. Slow, he curled his fingers around the hard flesh, squeezing it gently. He watched wide-eyed as the normally composed counselor mewed and arched his back like a cat. Glorfindel chuckled in his ear when Lindir repeated the action and Erestor squirmed uncontrollably. So enraptured was he with the vision before him that the minstrel did not notice when the seneschal slipped out from behind him until Glorfindel was laying on his abdomen in front of Lindir.

Something warm and wet closed over the head of his erection, causing Lindir to gasp and his ministrations to cease. His whole body trembled faintly as he looked down to find Glorfindel’s golden head in his lap, the Elda’s tongue teasing the tip of his arousal. He groaned, the sound coming from deep in his throat; unconsciously his hand tightened around Erestor’s shaft, causing the advisor to gasp and thrust his hips forward.

“I may be talented with my hands,” Erestor whispered, his tone deep in his arousal. “But Glorfindel is talented with his mouth in far more than speaking matters.”

The Elda merely grinned before practically swallowing the young minstrel’s shaft, causing that sweet voice to cry out in surprise and ecstasy. He swept his tongue over the pulsing vein and over the hardened flesh, encouraged by the sounds of pleasure sounding from above him. Hands dove into Glorfindel’s hair, twisting and tugging on the golden strands but he didn’t care. He didn’t stop his ministrations until he felt Lindir’s muscles tighten; only then did he puway,way, grinning at the mew of protest the minstrel issued.

Erestor felt his own release coming upon him. Even in his mindless frenzy, Lindir had managed to bring the advisor closer to the edge with his hands, which never ceased. Needing to be filled, Erestor brushed Lindir’s hand aside before stretching out on the bed upon his back. He reached for the younger Elf’s wrist, pulling the white-haired beauty atop him until Lindir’s body was blanketing his own. Erestor’s eyes searched the minstrel’s, his own gray depths saying all his voice did not.

Lindir hesitated, reading the need in Erestor’s eyes and knowing what it was the dark-haired Elf wanted. “But, I…”

“You won’t hurt me, Lindir,” Erestor said soothingly whilst placing a crystal vial in the minstrel’s hands. “I need this; we both do.”

“Take it slow,” Glorfindel whispered, his chest pressing against Lindir’s back. He could feel the younger Elf’s rapid heartbeat, the quickened breathing and the slight tremble from arousal and nervousness. Acting for the other, Glorfindel uncorked the vial and spread oil over his hands and Lindir’s. He whispered words of reassurance as he guided the minstrel’s hand to Erestor’s entrance, whispering words of instruction.

For his part, Lindir swallowed the lump in his throat as he followed Glorfindel’s words, slipping first one finger, then two past the guardian ring. He closely monitored Erestor’s features when he began to scissor and stretch the opening, surprised at the pleased moans that was sounding. So enraptured with the vision of the dark-haired advisor squirming wantonly that Lindir did not realize that Glorfindel was preparing him in the same manner as he was preparing Erestor. It wasn’t until the seneschal had brushed the hidden gland inside him, sending intense pleasure coursing through his body, that Lindir realized that he was both preparing and being prepared.

Groaning in abandon, the white-haired Elf pressed back against the digits invading him at the same moment Erestor pressed back against him. Lindir closed his eyes, his movements all but ceasing; he allowed Glorfindel to guide him physically as he felt his hand being pulled away and the tip of his arousal pressing against Erestor’s entrance. Hands--four of them, he vaguely noted--grasped his hips gently, pressing him forward. Lindir gasped at the dual sensation he was feeling as he breached past Erestor’s guardian ring at the exact moment Glorfindel pressed into him. The feeling of filling someone and being filled at the same time was overwhelming, and a keening mew left the kiss bruised lips.

Glorfindel ceased all movement to give Lindir time to adjust to the new sensations. His tongue darted out, lapping at a peaked shell of an ear whilst Erestor planted several, butterfly light kisses upon the young minstrel’s face and neck. Lindir began to squirm between them, effectively hitting Erestor’s hidden gland and stimulating his own.

“Move slowly, pen-neth,” the advisor said, his voice raspy as he fell back into the bed, his eyes fluttering closed as he lifted his hips in a silent plea.

When Lindir did not move, Glorfindel thrust forward shallowly, drawing mews from his bed partners. Slowly, the white-haired Elf rotated his hips, following the seneschal’s example as he thrust into Erestor. It took a bit getting used tut sut soon Lindir was delivering shallow thrusts at the same time he was receiving them. He thought he would go mad at what was happening to him, taking and being taken.

“Take it slow,” Glorfindel whispered into Lindir’s ear as their movements began to speed up. “Touch your lover as you make love to them; don’t leave them behind during your lovemaking.” Gently he took Lindir’s hand and guided the slender fingers to Erestor’s weeping erecting. The golden-haired Elf smiled and kissed Lindir’s neck when the minstrel curled his fingers around the advisor’s erection, drawing moans from Erestor’s lips.

Their lovemaking began to increase in pace and intensity, filling the room with moans and mews of pleasure. Erestor lay sprawled on the bed, his hair a dark mass across the pale gold sheets and his eyes closed in abandon; a light sheen of sweat covered his skin, and he held a fistful of golden locks in one hand and white tresses in another. Glorfindel was biting down on his lower lip, stifling his groans of pleasure as he thrust rapidly into Lindir’s body, feeling the beginnings of the minstrel’s release with each inward thrust. Lindir, for his part, felt lost on a cloud of sensation as he brought Erestor closer to his climax whilst Glorfindel urged Lindir towards his.

Cries of release filled the room as first Lindir came, followed closely by both Erestor and Glorfindel. Stars danced behind the minstrel’s closed eyes as he felt the muscles of his entire body tremble with the force of his released. Never in his young years had he ever felt anything so wonderful as what he just experienced, the pleasure of giving and taking love. Exhausted and no longer able to support himself, Lindir fell forward into a welcoming embrace, enfolded by warmth from both in front and behind. He snuggled against Erestor as Glorfindel blanketed them both.

“Sleep, pen-neth,” Erestor whispered as he noticed the dazed look in Lindir’s eyes. “You did well. Now get some rest.”

Lindir did not protest as he nuzzled against the side of Erestor’s neck and pulled one of Glorfindel’s arms about his waist before the land of dreams claimed him.

“He will make someone very happy, one day,” Glorfindel whispered as he toyed with a lock of white hair.

“Aye, he will,” Erestor replied. “Lindir has a good heart, and is very caring and kind. I can see that when he loves, it will be eternal. He will not rush into any relationship but will choose his lover wisely and with care.”

“Perhaps he will be lucky and find love at first sight.”

“Perhaps. But I think it is his lover that will be lucky if Lindir has learned anything that we have taught him this night.”

Glorfindel’s laughter filled the air, drawing a smile from Erestor. “Aye, his lover will be very lucky indeed.” The golden-haired Elf returned Erestor’s smile, bestowing a gentle kiss upon the advisor’s brow. Drawing up the sheets around their naked bodies, Glorfindel pulled both Erestor and Lindir close before the seneschal and the advisor joined the minstrel in a content sleep filled with peaceful dreams.

END