Early Birds

Title: Early Birds
Author: Erviniae
Chapter: 1/1
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: AU, M/M, a bit of fluff
Beta: All mistakes are gloriously mine
Summary: Glorfindel’s POV on the reason
He is an early riser
Author’s notes: Inspired by the beautiful and amazing
Artwork of Nemesi
For you Neme!


Many wonder why I am always the first to arrive at morning meal with my beloved Erestor on my arm like a treasured doll. I have heard the whispers when they thought me out of earshot. Some say that I cannot endure his presence for long. That I am eager to start my day and be rid of him until the bell of the evening meal resounds, calling all to end their day. Offering all to enjoy the pleasant respite of delicious food, palatable wine, beautiful music and the company of good friends. They are wrong.

Some say that he is unable to love, that the words he spews like fire in the council room extend into his private life, that none can stand his quips and barbs. I know different. Our lord knows different. They say he expects perfection from all around him; ah, now this rumor is true, for this is the very reason why he is second to none but Elrond.

Some have said that he is a female pretending to be male, for no male elf could look as he does, a temptress in disguise, with hips that sway as a female’s would. He is small in stature that is true, but I know different, I know what he hides under those robes of state, robes that accentuate his small and pert behind.

Others have said that his voice is smooth as silk, unnatural to the ear, but I know better, I know what that voice sounds like in all its intonations and inflections. And still others have said that we retire to our chambers too early because I wish to be rid of the evening to sleep, so that I may rise early once more, only to rid my self of him again. I know better.

I know better because I was the first to approach him in friendship so many years before, on the very day I had returned to serve the House of Elrond. I saw him standing with haughty authority and intense beauty next to our lord and I knew…I knew…that we were destined to be together. The surprise on his face when I first approached him in the library late one night was humbling, for I saw loneliness in his eyes, for he was Imladris’ unapproachable one. I knew different. I knew he had never been approached by any, for great beauty oft does that to the bearer. They felt humbled by his mere presence, for his curse in life was his beauty.
That night in the library, after I approached him, was the beginning of everything for us: the beginning of our love and also of all the rumors. We became inseparable after that night, and I longed to be by his side every minute of every day. We talked for hours on end about all that came to our minds. Often we were found in the gardens, holding hands as we gazed into each other’s eyes. They say I was bewitched, and if this is so then I am bewitchment’s willing slave.

For none save those closest to us knew the truth, that as much as I was bewitched by him, he was besotted with me. His kindness and sweet gentleness knew no bounds. He oft looked after me, making sure I did not feel too overwhelmed by my returned life. He eased my burdens both day and night. Elrond knew this. We chose to ignore all rumors; to defend them would only serve to justify them. Instead we grew as close as two beings could and we fell in love.
Our lord wed us in front of a handful of friends who were there as witnesses to our love, others that also knew. We chose a favorite spot in the gardens as we exchanged our vows and sealed the bond with blood. That night began the first of our early retiring and early rising.

And so this day, on our wedded anniversary, we arose before the sun was up, as we did every morn. The waning moonlight fell into our window, gently illuminating our sweet nest of blankets. I sat up and yawned, stretching as I did so; this movement causing the covers that were upon my beloved’s waist to fall slowly over that smooth, round and luscious behind of his. Sleepily he tried to push himself up with his arms to retrieve the covers as his hair fell in waves down his back and into his eyes. “Glorfindel, the covers,” he crooned sweetly, wanting me to pull them up once more. I lowered my arm and reached over to do so until my hand decided it wanted something else instead.

My hand lightly traced the line at the small of his back, fingers splaying to rub against the impossible softness of that pert behind of his. How I adore that behind. He moaned and arched his back gracefully. That did it. He knew what was to follow, as did I. Anticipation welled up in me…hard. I lowered my head to place little kisses along that back and finally I settled between his legs that he spread so eagerly for me. I began to sweetly kiss and lick those mounds of twin perfection. He whimpered and rose up on his knees, his head cradled in his arms, presenting himself to me. I let out a gasp of pure desire. His trust of me was staggering. I knelt behind him, and gently opened the mounds to reveal the puckered pink of his sweet center to my ravenous gaze. Blowing air over it, I watched it wink at me in invitation. Who was I to deny. Bending my head, I took the tip of my tongue, and licked around and around, occasionally lending my tongue to lick up and down the cleft, to the delightful sounds of whimpering and my name being sweetly called. I plunged in and he bucked back, taking the muscle in deeper, his whimpers escalating in pitch and fever. “Glorfindel” he moaned, “please… take me now.” I did.

With only my saliva as preparation, I slowly inched my way in. I was ever fascinated at how this little opening could accommodate my girth and length and yet it always did, and tightly so. Finally within completely, I stopped to savor the feel of him. He smiled, for I always did this. I leaned forward so that my chest covered his back as I began to move, the angle hitting his sweet spot with the very first thrust. He moaned, throwing his head back, the luxurious tresses flailing about as he turned his head to face me. I began a steady rhythm that he matched with one of his own, his hips undulating along with mine...He pushed back against me and I knew what he wanted. I sat back on my heels and pulled him with me as he moved, now sitting upon my lap. My hands ran along his smooth chest, playing with nipples, moving over a flat smooth stomach, over his hardened and dripping length. His length was as sweet as he and fit just perfectly into my hand. I began to move my hand upon it as he rode me. And much to my delight, he sat up and turned without missing a thrust, so as he now faced me, sitting upon my lap. My hands found themselves under those soft mounds, helping him ride.

Our lips met in such passion that we could scarce breath, nor did we care if we could not, for only the contact of our flesh mattered. He suddenly pried his lips from mine as his body bent backwards. He became racked with the first wave of his impending orgasm. I reached down and took his dripping length in hand and jerked his orgasm from him. “Glor…fin…del.” The sweetest sound was uttered from his swollen lips. His orgasm caused his muscles to clamp around my length and then I was flooded with wave after wave of the sweetest sensation, my voice betraying a growl of bliss. When the wave finally subsided, I found he was watching me…he told me often he loved to watch my face in the height of my passions. He said it stirred his soul. I smiled and pulled him to me for hugs and more kisses. We bathed as the sun first made its appearance and dressed for the start of our day.

As we walked to the morning meal, his arm entwined with mine I heard the whispers once more. I smiled because I knew why we were early risers, or early birds as we were often called; it was all for the love of him.

The End