Title: A Fire in Winter (1/3) (First in ‘The Renewal of the Seasons’ series, 
sequel to ‘The Four Seasons’)
Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)
Type: FPS
Pairing(s): Glorfindel/Erestor; Lindir/Elrohir; Elladan/Saelbeth; Legolas/?
Rating: NC17
Warnings: The usual sex thing…
Beta(s): Yvonne and Gary. All other mistakes are mine…
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. 
No profit or such is made from this.
Feedback: Yes please…
Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; Galadhrim.net; OEAM; 
otherwise, please ask…
Summary/Notes: Erestor and Glorfindel quibble about decorating their 
room; Lindir and Elrohir are starting to settle into their relationship; an 
interesting development arises when the Prince of Mirkwood arrives at 
Imladris; while Elladan awaits the arrival of one who is part of the 
Mirkwood party… This one’s for you Yvonne, for being my ever-faithful 
beta…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What is he like?”

“Hmm? Who is what like?”

“The prince!”

“Legolas? Why do you ask?”

Lindir sighed. “You have met him. I have not. On the other two occasions 
he has been here I was in Lothlórien,” he explained patiently. “I am only 
curious to find out whether what they say about him was true.”

“Namely?”

“It is said he is fair of face…”

“Which he is, though there are those who would say he is beautiful.”

“And you do not?”

Elrohir placed a finger under Lindir’s chin, forcing the minstrel to look at 
him. “There is only one elf I have eyes for, and to me he is the most 
beautiful elf in all of Middle-earth and beyond.” Lindir blushed at his 
lover’s words, but his curiosity about the prince had not been abated.

“And is he a good archer as they say he is?”

Elrohir smiled ruefully. “Whenever there has been an archery contest no-
one has been able to best him, whether they be someone from Imladris or 
Lothlórien. So yes, I think it is fair to say he is a good archer.”

“I have heard that he and Elladan were lovers once.”

“True, but it was a long time ago; now ‘tis just friendship between the 
two.”

“Yet Elladan appears to be looking forward to the prince’s arrival.”

“Is he? What makes you think that?”

Lindir paused for a moment. “He seems…happier since he found out the 
prince would be coming here to Imladris. He is smiling more. Every time I 
pass him he is humming a tune.”

Elrohir looked at him in astonishment, and then smiled. “What makes you 
think this is because of Legolas?”

“Well…”

“I think you will find, my curious minstrel, that it is not the prince who my 
brother is quite eager in seeing, but one who often travels with him.”

“Oh…who is it then?

Elrohir shook his head. “You, pen-vain, are incorrigible. Your curiosity 
knows no bounds. Well, I am afraid you will have to wait and see who it 
is.” The twin leaned in closer to the minstrel. “Right now I can think of a 
much better use for that lovely mouth of yours.”

Lindir swallowed. “Such as,” he managed to bring out, mesmerised by the 
lips hovering just above his.

“Let me show you…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“NO!”

“Glorfindel…”

“There is nothing wrong with the drapes!”

“I do not like them!”

“I. Do.” The seneschal stood before Erestor, arms folded, his expression 
mutinous. “You are *not* changing the drapes. You were quite happy to 
leave things as they were when you moved in, now you wish to change 
things – why?”

The advisor looked at his soon-to-be partner calmly. “You agreed,” he 
began, ignoring the blue eyes glaring at him, “that we would redecorate 
the room. We have already moved the furniture around; now I only wish 
to change a few of the furnishings.”

“The drapes stay,” Glorfindel stated flatly.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Erestor…”

“Yes, pen-valthennen?” Erestor’s voice was low, enticing, as he stepped 
closer to the seneschal.

“Do not, Erestor.”

“Do not, what?” The advisor took another step.

“You seek to try and coerce me into changing my mind. I will not allow 
you to.” Arms dropping to his sides, Glorfindel took a step back, trying to 
create a space again between himself and the advisor. Yet for every step 
back he took, Erestor took two steps towards him, till the dark-haired elf 
was pressed up against him, looking at him through lowered lashes.

“The drapes stay,” Glorfindel said again, but his voice was lacking the 
authority from before. He shivered as he felt Erestor’s fingers ghosting up 
his arm to rest on his shoulder.

“How do I convince you otherwise?" Erestor asked softly.

Oh Valar…Glorfindel closed his eyes as hands began undoing the 
fastenings on his tunic. “You do not play fair, melethen,” he muttered 
hoarsely.

“No, I do not. Do you wish for me to?” Erestor replied, hands parting the 
tunic and resting on the naked chest of the seneschal. Glorfindel’s breath 
hitched as he felt fingers teasing his nipples.

“No,” he whispered, before leaning in to capture his lover’s lips in a 
passionate kiss. Hands groped at each other’s clothing, somehow 
managing to undo various fastenings and lacings until they stood naked, 
weeping arousals pressed between them.

“Why do you do this to me, ervainen vorn? Glorfindel muttered, 
manoeuvring his lover backwards towards the bed.

“I find it a very effective method in…” The breath left Erestor’s body as 
he was pushed back onto the bed.

“Effective method in what, melethen?” Glorfindel straddled the advisor, 
looking down at him with hooded eyes.

“In getting what I want,” Erestor replied a little breathlessly.

“Really? And what would that be?”

Erestor’s voice left him as Glorfindel bent down and took one of his 
nipples in his mouth, gently teasing it before moving his head and paying 
the same attention to the other one, then groaned in disappointment when 
the seneschal raised his head.

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“You said it was an effective method of getting what you want…namely?”
The dark-haired advisor swallowed. “You,” he managed to say.

“Ah.” Glorfindel began moving his hips, rubbing his arousal against 
Erestor’s. “Were you planning to use this ‘method’ to make me change my 
mind on certain things?” he ground out.

Eyes closed, Erestor moaned in reply. He jumped slightly when he heard 
Glorfindel’s voice in his ear. “Then, ervainen vorn, I think it only fair I 
should use this ‘method’ on you.” He felt Glorfindel move away, and then 
heard a bottle being opened before the smell of sandalwood permeated the 
air. His legs were moved to rest upon the seneschal’s shoulders, and he 
sighed as a finger breached him, which quickly became two, then three, 
before they were removed and replaced with hard shaft of his lover. He 
opened his eyes and smiled as Glorfindel began to slowly move within 
him. Dropping his legs he wrapped them around Glorfindel’s waist, 
pushing the seneschal further into him, groaning as his lover thrust into 
him, the breathing becoming more erratic as he could feel his orgasm 
building up within him. He felt Glorfindel’s hand grasp his neglected 
arousal, and he soon came, shouting Glorfindel’s name, feeling his lover’s 
essence spill into him while whispering ‘Erestor…my Erestor…’.

Regaining his breath, Glorfindel carefully withdrew before lying down 
beside Erestor and gathering the advisor into his arms. “Melin chen,” he 
whispered.

“Melin chen, pen-valthennen,” Erestor replied contentedly. He sighed as 
he snuggled further into his lover’s embrace.

“But the drapes are still going…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elladan was nervous as he awaited the arrival of the party from Mirkwood. 
He was hoping Saelbeth would be amongst them. He had met the other elf 
during the twins’ last visit to Mirkwood, and the two had instantly been 
attracted to one another, spending much of their free time together, their 
friendship blossoming. Saelbeth had wanted it to progress further, but 
Elladan had hesitated. He had sensed the disappointment in the other elf 
and, in the many years since they had last seen each other, Elladan 
wondered whether he had done the right thing. He had thought of Saelbeth 
constantly, but did not know whether the other elf had thought of him or 
had found someone else. Now he was about to find out…

He watched as his brother and Lindir came out into the courtyard, making 
their way towards him.

“Nervous, gwanur?” Elrohir asked, a smile on his face.

“Nervous? Of course not! Why should I be?” Elladan retorted.

“Then why are you attempting to unravel the sleeve of your robe?”

“I am not – I was just brushing off a speck of dirt.”

“Of course you were.” Elladan glared at his brother before turning his 
attention to Lindir.

“You have not met the prince before, have you?” Lindir shook his head. 

“Do not worry pen-neth – you are sure to like him. You will find he does 
not stand on ceremony, so do not be surprised if he asks you not to call 
him ‘Prince Legolas’ or ‘my Lord’,” Elladan said.

“But I can not just call him ‘Legolas’! He is a prince!” Lindir responded, 
horrified.

Elrohir laughed and was about to reply when the sound of horses’ hooves 
could be heard. “They have arrived. Quick Lindir – go and inform our 
father…”

“…who is already here.” Elrond smiled at his sons and the minstrel before 
turning his attention to party arriving within the courtyard.

“Lord Elrond!” A golden-haired figure jumped down from his horse and 
made his way to the Lord of Imladris.

“Welcome, Legolas! It is a pleasure to see you here again. I trust your 
journey was uneventful?” Elrond queried.

“It was, thank you.” Legolas turned his attention to the twins. “And it is 
good to see the two of you again! There is much to catch up on since our 
last meeting.” Noticing Elladan’s continuing glances at the rest of the 
party, Legolas leaned in and whispered in his ear: “Do not fret, mellonen, 
he is here. He has been looking forward to seeing you again.”

Elladan smiled at the prince’s words. “Then I hope you will excuse me 
while I try and find him amongst the rabble you have brought with you.”
“Rabble? They are my loyal and trusted guards!”

“In other words, rabble, Legolas!” The two elves laughed before Elladan 
set out to try and find Saelbeth.

“Elrohir, who is this beautiful elf who stands next to you – I do not believe 
I have met him before?”

Lindir stared, mouth agape, at the vision standing in front of him. It was 
no exaggeration that the prince was beautiful. He felt plain in comparison. 
Yet the prince called *him* beautiful. He felt Elrohir’s arm slide around 
his waist.

“This is Lindir,” the twin said, drawing the minstrel closer to him. “My 
beloved,” he added.

“Your beloved? Then you are a lucky elf indeed to have ensnared such an 
enchanting creature.” Legolas smiled at Lindir. “It is a pleasure to meet 
you Lindir.”

“And you, my Lord,” Lindir managed to say.

“Call me Legolas, please – there is no need for formalities,” the prince 
said, before turning back to Elrohir. “I am happy for you mellonen – it was 
time you found someone.”

In the meantime Lindir could only stand there in a complete daze. 
Ensnared? Enchanting creature? The minstrel looked at the dark-haired 
twin.

“What is wrong, melethen?” Elrohir asked in concern. Lindir could only 
shake his head, not knowing what he should or could say.

“Ah, there you both are.” Elrond’s voice made the elves standing in the 
courtyard turn towards Erestor and Glorfindel.

“Forgive us, my Lord, for not being here to greet our guests. I am afraid 
we were…detained,” Erestor said, trying to smooth out his robes.

“Again,” said Elrond dryly. “The two of you seem to be detained quite 
often lately.” There was a burst of laughter at his words.

“Now that you are here, Erestor, would you be so kind as to show our 
guests to their rooms? And Glorfindel, could you see to the stabling of 
their horses? Hopefully, neither of you will be ‘detained’ this time.” There 
was a hint of sarcasm in the last statement.

“Of course, my Lord,” Erestor replied. He turned towards the prince. “I 
bid you welcome once again, Legolas. If you would care to follow me, I 
will show you to your room.”

“And it is good to see you again, Erestor.” Leaning in towards the dark-
haired elf, he added mischievously: “Tell me, are you ‘detained’ as 
frequently as Lord Elrond implies?”

Erestor glared at the prince, but did not say a word, merely walked back 
inside the house, Legolas following him with a smile on his face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Saelbeth?” The elf in question turned at Elladan’s voice.

“Elladan.” He smiled warmly at the twin, noting the slight look of 
apprehension in the dark-haired elf’s eyes. “I have missed you.”

“I have missed you as well, mellonen,” Elladan replied softly.

“Mellonen? I have not stopped thinking about you since you left, pen-vain. 
While I could have easily taken up with another, I did not. I wish to be 
more than your friend, pen-vain, you know this.”

Elladan swallowed. “I know.”

“Then…” Saelbeth leaned in towards the other elf, “…what is there to 
stop us? Or do you plan to keep me at arm’s length as you did last time?”

“I merely wanted to make sure of my feelings for you Saelbeth. I have not 
felt like this for another since I was with Legolas, and it was the distance 
between Mirkwood and Imladris which caused the disintegration of our 
relationship…”

Saelbeth placed his finger on Elladan’s lips, stilling them. “I understand,” 
he said gently. “However, I have a suggestion to make that would make 
things a lot easier for both of us.” He took Elladan by the hand and started 
leading him towards the house.

“Let me tell you of what I have thought…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elvish translations:	ervainen vorn – my dark beautiful one
	melethen – my love
	melin chen – I love you
	mellonen – my friend
	gwanur – brother
	pen-neth – young one
	pen-valthennen – my golden one
	pen-vain – beautiful one

~~ TBC ~~

Title: A Fire in Winter (2/3) (First in ‘The Renewal of the Seasons’ series, 
sequel to ‘The Four Seasons’)
Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)
Type: FPS
Pairing: Glorfindel/Erestor; Lindir/Elrohir; Elladan/Saelbeth; Legolas/?
Rating: R
Warnings: None this time…well, okay, this does get very, very sappy…
Beta(s): Yvonne and Gary. All other mistakes are mine…
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. 
No profit or such is made from this.
Feedback: Yes please…
Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; Galadhrim.net; OEAM; 
otherwise, please ask…
Summary/Notes: The bonding ceremony takes place; Erestor and 
Glorfindel still don’t quite see eye to eye where the decorating is 
concerned; Lindir gets a surprise; while Elladan isn’t quite sure what his 
true feelings are and where he stands with Saelbeth… This one’s for you 
Yvonne, for being my ever-faithful beta…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘When you say you love me
The world goes still, so still inside and
When you say you love me
In that moment, I know I am alive
When you say you love me
Do you know how I love you’
‘When you say you love me’ – Josh Groban

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Glorfindel paced nervously in the room temporarily assigned to him until 
the ceremony. Dressed in white leggings, a pale blue undershirt, dark blue 
tunic with gold embroidery, he was anything but the normally level-
headed, cool-under-crisis seneschal of Imladris. His hair was loose, 
adorned only by a gold hair-clip – simplicity itself with its open 
scrollwork design, two leaves in the middle set with sapphires, the stones 
matching the blue of his tunic. Reaching up, his touched the clip, a smile 
on his face, remembering when Erestor gave it to him. A year ago today…
The golden-haired warrior made his way to the window and stared out at 
the crisp, winter-white landscape. There had been a light snowfall during 
the night, but the day itself had dawned bright and clear. He sighed, and 
then resumed his pacing. Things had been a little tense between himself 
and the dark-haired advisor lately; constant disagreements on how their 
rooms should be decorated leaving both elves feeling a little frustrated and 
on edge. Not to mention the upcoming ceremony. Glorfindel only hoped 
that once it was over, everything would settle down a little and they could 
then discuss things rationally. Though he suspected he would still come 
out at the wrong end of the ‘discussions’. The drapes had been changed – 
much to his chagrin. A deep gold, he felt they let in too much light, 
especially in the morning. Now Erestor had succeeded in talking him into 
repainting the ceiling with a new design.

“What is wrong with it as it is?” the seneschal had argued.

“What is wrong is that I dislike seeing it as soon as I wake up, pen-
valthennen.” Glorfindel had known he was in trouble as soon as he heard 
the endearment – it had meant there would be a full-frontal attack. But he 
had persisted nevertheless.

“It is soothing, relaxing – even you said as much when you first moved in. 
Now you say you dislike it; why?”

Erestor had approached him then, gently placing his hand on Glorfindel’s 
chest and looked at the seneschal’s face with his dark, seductive eyes, and 
the seneschal had known himself to be lost.

“Seron vell,” he had purred. “It has been untouched since your arrival at 
Imladris; surely it is time to have it re-done…trust me on this.” The 
advisor’s hand had made its way to Glorfindel’s face, gently tracing the 
contours with this finger, sending shivers down the seneschal’s spine.

‘Oh Valar,’ Glorfindel had thought. The very touch from his lover had 
been enough to send any coherency fleeing from his mind, leaving him 
giddy and weak at the knees.

So the seneschal had acquiesced, putting his trust in his lover, and he 
would see the final result tonight, when they retired.

A knock at the door interrupted his musings. “It is time, Glorfindel.” 

Arwen’s voice floated through. Already! The golden-haired warrior 
fiddled with his tunic, adjusting the collar and sleeves before taking a deep 
breath and approaching the door. He opened it to the smiling face of 
Elrond’s daughter.

“You look wonderful, Glorfindel,” she said softly.

“Thank you,” Glorfindel replied, almost shyly.

The two slowly made their way to the pavilion where the ceremony was to 
be held, almost filled to overflowing with the number of elves there. The 
seneschal tried to peer through the throng.

“He is not here yet; Lindir will be bringing him shortly.” Arwen stopped 
momentarily and put her hand on Glorfindel’s arm.

“You love him very much, do you not?”

Glorfindel smiled. “Indeed I do…more than I thought possible.” He stared 
past her. “He is my life, my heart, my soul…” Focusing his gaze on her 
face, he gently cupped it with one hand. “One day, pen-neth, you will find 
that someone who will take your heart.”

“You did not tell me you had the gift for foresight,” Arwen said a little 
mischievously.

Laughing, Glorfindel replied: “I do not, as you well know; I leave such 
things to your father and grandmother.” His mien then became serious. 

“But whoever he may be, he will be a special one indeed to gain your 
love.”

“I hope, though, that it may be a long time yet, mellonen.” Elrond’s voice 
interrupted them. “Come – Erestor will be here soon.” Taking Glorfindel’s 
arm, he guided him up the few steps to within the pavilion, smiling 
reassuringly at the seneschal.

If he was nervous before, it was nothing in comparison to how he felt now. 
Every moment seemed to stretch into eternity. ‘Where is he? Has he 
changed his mind? Will he come? Was it really too soon to bond?’

“Glorfindel.”

“Hmm?”

“Look behind you.”

The seneschal did as he was bid. And had his breath stolen away. He could 
only stare, mesmerised, as the figure, dressed in cream leggings, light grey 
undertunic, and richly embroidered wine red tunic approached him, a 
tentative smile on his face. Finally Erestor was before him, and both drank 
the sight of each other in, oblivious to everything and everyone else.
A loud clearing of the throat jolted them both back into reality.

“Shall we begin?” Elrond smiled at the two elves before him. And as the 
Elf-lord began the ceremony, Glorfindel and Erestor looked at each other 
once again, lost in each other’s gazes, replying automatically to the 
questions posed to them. When he slid the ring onto Erestor’s finger, 
Glorfindel was overwhelmed by a surge of love for the elf in front of him. 
And he could feel a tear running down his cheek as an identical ring was 
placed on his finger. He leaned in and kissed Erestor, not caring whether 
Elrond was finished or not. All that mattered was the frustrating, pedantic, 
always-by-the-rules, adorable, intoxicating, beautiful and bewitching elf 
who was now his husband…

Elladan made his way to his father’s side. “Why are we here, Ada?” he 
queried, eyeing the two elves that were still totally engrossed in their kiss.

“Only the Valar knows…maybe it would have been easier if they had just 
given each other the rings and foregone the ceremony,” Elrond responded 
ruefully. “I am surprised they managed to answer when they were 
supposed to.” He turned and smiled at his son. “Do I dare interrupt and 
suggest we should retire for the banquet?”

Elladan smiled impishly at his father. “Leave it to me.” And much to his 
amusement, Elrond watched as his son somehow came between the 
Glorfindel and Erestor and declared in a loud voice how he and the other 
guests were about to expire unless they were allowed to return inside and 
partake of the feast prepared in honour of this day. And laughed, watching 
the happy couple blush a becoming shade of pink…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It was a wonderful ceremony, was it not?” Elladan turned his head 
slightly at the sound of Saelbeth’s voice in his ear. They were standing on 
one of the many balconies, watching as the sun slowly set behind the trees.

“Indeed it was, even if they did not take much of it in! But they are so 
happy, so in love…”

“Is that what you wish, melethen?”

Elladan started a little at the endearment. “Why did you call me that?” he 
whispered.

“Forgive me – I was being too forward.” Saelbeth stepped closer to the 
other elf. “But you know my feelings for you…”

“Do I? You say you would like our relationship to progress further, but do 
I know your feelings? You have never said.”

“I thought I had made it obvious.” Saelbeth’s voice was tinged with hurt.

“Then maybe I have misread the signs,” Elladan said softly. “I care for 
you a great deal; I do not deny you have touched my heart in a way it has 
not been since Legolas…”

“And you have touched mine.” Saelbeth raised his hand and stroked 
Elladan’s cheek. “I think I have fallen in love with you.”

“You *think* you have fallen in love with me?” Elladan stepped away, 
looking at the other elf with solemn eyes. “I want more than *think*, 
mellonen. Either you do, or you do not.”

“Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Do you love me?”

“I…”

“Either you do, or you do not,” Saelbeth retorted, throwing Elladan’s 
words back at him.

Elladan stared at the Mirkwood elf, his feelings in a turmoil. Did he love 
Saelbeth? Or was purely attraction only? Did he misjudge the interest in 
him by the other elf? He no longer knew.

“Goodnight Saelbeth,” he said quietly, his face betraying nothing.

“Goodnight Elladan.” Saelbeth watched as the twin walked back inside the 
house, then turned and rested his arms on the balustrade. He had still to 
tell Elladan of his ‘transfer’ to Imladris – just as he was about to mention 
it Arwen had appeared and taken her brother’s arm, and the opportunity 
had been lost. And with preparations being finalised for the ceremony, 
Saelbeth had barely seen Elladan since.

No matter; now the bonding ceremony had taken place, there was nothing 
to keep Elladan occupied.

Saelbeth was determined to ensnare the eldest son of Elrond…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Is it necessary for me to wear this blindfold?” Glorfindel complained. “I 
can not see where I am going!”

“Shh…you are not supposed to see, pen-valthennen.” Erestor held 
Glorfindel’s hand, guiding him back to their rooms.

“I still do not understand why I must be blindfolded,” the seneschal 
groused.

“It will spoil the surprise if you are not,” his husband chided.

Glorfindel sighed, and allowed himself to be led. He heard the door 
opening, and felt Erestor gently propelling him into the room. Standing 
uncertainly, he waited until the door was closed before carefully turning 
around to where he thought Erestor would be.

“May I take it off now?”

The seneschal sensed movement behind him and stiffened slightly, before 
realising it was Erestor. He felt as the knot was being undone before the 
blindfold fell away. Blinking slightly to adjust his eyes, he noted the 
numerous candles around the room, their flames casting soft shadows 
upon the walls.

“Look up,” Erestor whispered. Of course, the newly repainted ceiling; 
Glorfindel looked up with a little trepidation, wondering what he would 
see. And was surprised to see it appeared a little… ordinary. Painted 
cream, with what looked like pale brown lattice-work, intertwined with 
flowers. But wait…the flowers…they looked remarkably like the symbol 
of his house. He dropped his head and turned to stare at Erestor.

“Are they…?”

“Yes…do you like it?”

“It is nothing as I had imagined…” Glorfindel raised his head to look at 
the ceiling again. “The symbol of my house…” he murmured. “Why?” he 
asked, bringing his attention back to the advisor.

“Because I love you, because it is who you are. Though Gondolin no 
longer stands, there are those who would still refer to you as the Lord of 
the House of the Golden Flower – and you are always my golden one.”

“Thank you,” the seneschal said quietly. He looked at the drapes. “And, of 
course, the drapes complement the ceiling.”

“Of course.” Erestor smiled.

“That now leaves one thing.”

“And what is that?”

“To remove every stitch of clothing upon your person and have my 
wicked way with you.” Glorfindel pulled Erestor towards him, allowing 
the advisor to feel his growing arousal.

“And how wicked do you plan to be, my Lord?” Erestor purred.

“Ervainen vorn, I plan to be very wicked indeed…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On another balcony, Lindir watched a little warily as the prince 
approached him. He had felt Legolas’ eyes upon him throughout the day, 
and it unsettled him.

“What is it Lindir – you seem a little worried,” Legolas said, stopping 
before the minstrel.

“I…I am not worried, my Lord, just a little tired, that is all.”

“Indeed, it has been a long day. But please Lindir, did I not ask you to call 
me Legolas? Especially as you are the beloved of my good friend 
Elrohir…” The prince leaned in a little closer towards the minstrel. “Tell 
me – how long have you and Elrohir been a couple?”

Lindir swallowed, nervous at the prince’s proximity. “Not…not long, my 
Lo – I mean Legolas,” he managed to stutter.

“Not long…” Legolas murmured. “Do you love him?”

The minstrel’s eyes widened. Was the prince serious?

“Yes…yes, I do.” Lindir’s voice though somehow lacked conviction, and 
it was not missed by Legolas.

“You do not seem so sure, pen-vain.”

“Of course I am sure!” Lindir’s voice was stronger now. “And please do 
not call me ‘beautiful one’. Only Elrohir may call me that.” The last 
sentence was said a little defiantly. He was beginning to feel extremely 
uncomfortable under the prince’s scrutiny.

“Then your ‘lover’ and I are of the same opinion, because you *are* 
beautiful, most assuredly... and enchanting. Your voice was a delight to 
listen to tonight. Believe me, pen-vain, I do not jest, nor do I hand out 
compliments unnecessarily.” His hand reached out and gently touched 
Lindir’s hair. “So soft…kissed by Ithil’s light…”

“Stop…” Lindir whispered. He took a step back, only to find his back 
against a statue.

“Stop what, pen-vain?” Legolas took a step closer towards the minstrel. 

“Do you wish me to stop telling you I find you beautiful, enchanting? That 
your voice is like that of the nightingale? That I find you desirable?”

“Enough!” Lindir placed his hands on the prince’s chest, trying to push 
him away. “I *love* Elrohir – I have loved him for as long as I can 
remember! I almost left Imladris because I felt he did not return my 
feelings! You have no right to talk to me in such a way…please, let me 
go,” the minstrel pleaded, his hands now caught in those of the prince.

“Very well…I shall let you go, pen-vain, on one condition – that you 
allow me to have just one kiss from your sweet lips.”

“A…a…kiss? You want me to kiss you?”

“Is that so terrible? Just one kiss, pen-vain, nothing more.”

Lindir considered the prince’s request, and the idea terrified him. He loved 
Elrohir…how could he betray him by kissing Legolas? No – there had to 
be another way to get the prince to release him.

“I can not; I will not betray Elrohir,” the minstrel stated firmly.

“But you will not betray him, pen-vain; it will only be a kiss between 
friends, and we are friends, are we not?” Legolas saw the hesitation in 
Lindir’s eyes. “You are my friend because Elrohir is,” he said, watching 
closely to gauge the minstrel’s reaction.

“Have…have you kissed Elrohir?”

“I have, pen-vain,” replied Legolas solemnly. “Though it was enjoyable, I 
had infinitely preferred Elladan’s kisses.” In fact, Elrohir had been rather 
bemused by the episode, especially when Legolas had told him he had 
mistaken the twin for Elladan. But the prince had known exactly who he 
had been kissing, and suspected Elrohir knew as well.

“Yes, I know you and he had been lovers in the past; Elrohir told me. But 
did Elladan not mind you kissing his brother?”

“Not in the slightest.” Which was incorrect; what Legolas failed to 
mention was that when Elladan found out, he threatened to cleave the 
prince’s head from his shoulders if he so much as dared to do it again. The 
twin had been…a little possessive. He smirked inwardly; he would be 
interested to see how things developed between his ex-lover and 
Saelbeth…

“Then I suppose there can be no harm…”

Before Lindir could get himself under some semblance of control, 
Legolas’ lips were upon his, tongue questing, seeking entrance. The 
minstrel could not help himself; he moaned, allowing the prince the access 
he desired, and he made a full exploration of the mouth beneath him. 

Lindir felt totally lost – part of him was enjoying it, while the other part 
was telling him it was totally wrong. With effort, he managed to break the 
kiss and pushed away from Legolas. Choking on a sob, he fled, leaving the 
Mirkwood prince to stare at his retreating back. 

Legolas watched as the minstrel disappeared from sight, still savouring the 
taste of him. “Nothing more, pen-vain…for now…” he whispered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elvish translations:	ervainen vorn – my dark beautiful one
	melethen – my love
	mellonen – my friend
	pen-neth – young one
	pen-valthennen – my golden one
	pen-vain – beautiful one
	seron vell – dear lover

~~ TBC ~~

Title: A Fire in Winter (3/3) (First in ‘The Renewal of the Seasons’ series, 
sequel to ‘The Four Seasons’)
Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)
Type: FPS
Pairing: Glorfindel/Erestor; Lindir/Elrohir; Elladan/Saelbeth; 
Legolas/Lindir
Rating: NC17
Warnings: Sex (again)…
Beta(s): Yvonne and Gary. All other mistakes are mine…
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. 
No profit or such is made from this.
Feedback: Yes please…
Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; Galadhrim.net; OEAM; 
otherwise, please ask…
Summary/Notes: Routine returns for Erestor and Glorfindel, leaving 
Erestor a little frustrated; Lindir makes a confession to Elrohir; Elladan 
finds out why Saelbeth is behaving the way he is; while Legolas tries to 
continue his pursuit of the minstrel, but is soon put in his place…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning…

“Maer aur, pen-vain.” Standing in front of some shelves, staring blankly at 
the books and scrolls upon them, Lindir jumped at Legolas’ voice.

“Maer aur, Híren,” he replied, keeping his tone formal. The memories of 
the kiss with Legolas had not left him, and the minstrel had resolved to 
keep as much distance between himself and Legolas as possible.

“You have again called me ‘my Lord’ – that does not bode well.” There 
was a teasing note in the prince’s voice, a smile on his lips. The smile 
soon faded, though, when he saw the serious mien on the other elf’s face.

“Have I offended you in some way?” he asked.

“Last night.”

Legolas looked at him blankly. “What about last night, pen-vain?”

“The so-called kiss ‘between friends’, my Lord,” Lindir said coldly.

“Ah, that. I quite enjoyed it; I take it you did not?”

“Enjoyed it?!!” Lindir exploded, all decorum pushed aside. “That was not 
a kiss ‘between friends’, my Lord; that was a kiss one would have 
bestowed on a lover! And I am *not* your lover!” The normally placid 
green eyes were blazing with fury.

“I *love* Elrohir; I have always loved him, and I always will. You may be 
a friend of his, but you are certainly no friend of mine! How dare you try 
and come between us!”

“I was not trying to come between you!” Legolas protested, taken aback 
by Lindir’s vehemence.

“Then why did you kiss me like that?”

“I…” Legolas lowered his gaze, unable to no longer look the minstrel in 
the eye.

“Forgive me, pen-vain,” he whispered. “Perhaps you are right in that I was 
a little presumptuous…”

“A little presumptuous…you took liberties you had no right to take, 
Híren.”

“I…I could not help myself. You are so fey, so enchanting…”

“*You* are a prince. That does not entitle you to behave in such a 
manner.”

“You sound like my father – he has a tendency to tell me the same thing,” 
Legolas said ruefully.

“Then you have obviously not taken his words to heart,” said Lindir 
quietly.

Legolas looked at the minstrel, eyes narrowing slightly. “You are taking 
liberties yourself in speaking to me in such a fashion.”

“Because they needed to be said, Híren,” the minstrel responded calmly.
The prince looked at Lindir appraisingly. “There is more to you than 
meets the eye, pen-vain.”

“Please do not call me that; my name is Lindir.”

“As you wish…Lindir.” Legolas turned and made his way to the door 
before turning and looking at the minstrel once again. “I wonder if Elrohir 
knows what a little wild-cat you are. I think he might be in for a rude 
shock when he realises you have claws.” He left, leaving a trembling 
Lindir to grasp for a chair.

“Oh Valar…” he breathed, unable to comprehend what had just transpired. 
A shiver went through his slender frame. His mind in a turmoil, he could 
only think of Elrohir. What would he say or do if he found out what had 
happened? The new-found love between them could be fractured, 
destroyed even. All because of a kiss – a kiss he blamed himself for, 
because he allowed it to happen. He felt a tear making its way down his 
face and he wiped it away, afterwards taking a ragged breath.
And what happened if the prince complained to Lord Elrond? Legolas was 
right; he had taken liberties in speaking to the prince the way he did. 
*Had* he been justified speaking to Legolas like that? Now, sitting there, 
he wasn’t so sure. All the anger he had felt before had long since fled, 
leaving him miserable.

Sighing, he sat there for some minutes, trying to get his jumbled thoughts 
into some sort of order, before standing up and slowly making his way out 
of the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Glorfindel stretched as much as he was able with the advisor still snuggled 
up against him. The movement caused Erestor to open one eye.

“There is no need to get up just yet,” he mumbled, throwing an arm about 
his husband.

“True, ervainen vorn. Tomorrow will come soon enough when we must 
resume our duties. Now I only wish to lie here with you in my arms and 
admire the ceiling, now that daylight has come.”

“You truly like it?”

“Very much so, melethen.” The seneschal heard Erestor sigh contentedly.

“I am pleased; I was not so sure if you would.”

“Anything you do pleases me – well, most of the time.”

Raising his head, Erestor looked down at the other elf. “Most of the time?” 
he queried, eyebrow raised.

Glorfindel nodded in affirmation to his husband’s question.

“And when are the times when I do not?” Erestor’s voice held a hint of 
fear.

“When you sit at your desk, all prim and proper, telling me in no uncertain 
terms you have work to do, and that I am not allowed to distract you.”

“I *do* have duties here to perform, as you do, melethen. I can not have 
you disrupting me; nothing would get done otherwise!”

“Would kissing you be so disruptive?”

“Aye, it would be,” said Erestor dryly. “One kiss leads to another, and 
soon it leads into something else. You know I find you too tempting.”

“I should think so! But you are as equally tempting to me, seron vell. I 
find it difficult now to leave our bed to go on patrol when all I wish to do 
is to wake you up slowly and make love to you…” Glorfindel leaned up 
and placed a gentle kiss on Erestor’s lips. “As I wish to do now…”

“Finally…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elladan eyed Saelbeth warily. He had not slept well; the previous night’s 
encounter with the other elf had left him restless, and sleep had proved to 
be elusive for most of the night. The dining hall was empty except for the 
two elves, the twin using it as a refuge to escape the querying looks 
directed his way.

“Please, mellonen – there is something I wish to tell you.”

“You mean in addition to what was said last night? Elladan asked calmly.

“Well, yes and no. Remember I said upon our arrival I had news for you? 
But as soon as we stepped into the house you were way-laid by your sister, 
and I have not had the opportunity since. I am rather hoping this news will 
please you.”

“Please me? In what way?”

“I have asked, and been granted, the chance to stay here at Imladris for a 
year, to work with Erestor and Lord Elrond. The king thinks it will be 
beneficial to me, especially if I wish to advance my position as advisor.”

“Is that the only reason?”

Saelbeth flushed under Elladan’s scrutiny. He knew he had hurt the dark-
haired elf last night in being too direct, too forward. Yes, he wanted to 
have Elladan as his own, but he had used the wrong words, had given the 
wrong impression, and had left Elladan in doubt as to what Saelbeth’s 
feelings truly were. The blonde-haired elf sighed, knowing he had an 
uphill climb to convince Elladan he was sincere.

“No, it is not. The other reason is so that I would see more of you, in the 
hopes that we may…” Saelbeth faltered. The other elf’s face was like a 
mask, totally expressionless.

“That is all well and good, mellonen,” Elladan responded. “However, once 
the snows melt, Elrohir and I will be out on patrol. There are times when 
we are away for weeks, and sometimes it can stretch to a month or two. 
When we do return here, it is only for a short period of time before we 
leave again. If anything, we will be seeing less of each other.”
Saelbeth bit his lip. “I see,” he said quietly.

“Do you?” Elladan rose from the chair, looking at the other elf with an 
almost sorrowful expression. “I hope you find your time here constructive, 
Saelbeth. Now, if you will excuse me, I promised Adar I would help him 
this morning.” He turned to go, but his progress was halted by Saelbeth’s 
voice.

“Wait! Please…”

Elladan turned to face him. “Yes?”

Saelbeth took a deep breath. “I am sorry…for my words and behaviour 
since my arrival. I realise now I was wrong, how my words must have 
sounded to you…”

“Your words sounded to me, *mellonen*, like they were a trap. Is that 
what all of it was? A trap with the intention of getting me into your bed, so 
as to be able to brag you had bedded one of Elrond’s sons?”

“NO!” The denial was a cry of anguish. “I…I had hoped…with my words 
it would make me appear…more desirable in your eyes. That you would 
think you had competition for my affections. But I went about it the wrong 
way, and I am sorry. All my foolish words did was drive a barrier between 
us. I suppose in a way I was trying to trap you – I was even thinking that 
last night when you left me, that I would somehow find a way to ensnare 
you.” The elf gave a bitter laugh. “Now, if I were to say to you ‘I love 
you’ I know you would not believe me, yet I would be speaking the truth. 
I would not blame you if you now despised me.”

“I do not despise you, Saelbeth.” Elladan’s voice was gentle. “I am just 
confused and a little upset by what has happened between us since your 
arrival. I did not lie when I said I cared for you, that you touched my heart, 
but now I do not know if I can let you come any closer to me in any way 
but friendship.”

“I suppose it is what I deserve,” Saelbeth whispered.

“Do not say that. I said I do not know, I did not say ‘never’. The fact you 
have been honest with me already counts a great deal.” Elladan looked at 
the other elf. “There never were any others, were there.” It was a statement 
more than a question.

Saelbeth shook his head. “I never really warranted much attention. Some 
even laughed when they saw the two of us spending time together when 
you were in Mirkwood, asking what one of the sons of Elrond would see 
in me. But most are too busy chasing after Legolas – he has no 
predilection who he takes to his bed…forgive me! I did not mean to 
imply…”

“You implied nothing what I already did not know,” said Elladan a little 
grimly. “I think that was the real reason why Legolas and I parted. I was 
faithful to him in the time we were apart – I would never have dreamt of 
being with another. However, our prince thought otherwise…and then he 
had the gall to accuse me of being possessive. No, Saelbeth, I am not 
offended by your words.” He sighed.

“Will…will you give me the chance to prove myself to you? I *do* love 
you – please let me have the opportunity to show you.”

Elladan smiled. “I do not understand why they would think there was 
nothing about you that would attract me. There is much. However, I do not 
have the time to tell you now; my father awaits me. But yes, if you wish to 
have the ‘opportunity’ to show me, then you have it.” He cocked his head 
to one side. “You know, I think I may have spoken an untruth 
earlier…now that Elrohir and Lindir are a couple, I suspect my brother 
will not wish to spend so much time away from Imladris. Short of going 
out on my own, I think I will be spending a little more time here than I 
would normally do.”

“Then maybe we can get together like we used to do in Mirkwood,” said 
Saelbeth, hope once more shining in his eyes.

“Aye, we can,” Elladan responded softly, before finally leaving the hall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A week later…

“So when are you going to talk to me and tell me what is wrong?” Elrohir 
demanded. “You have been behaving peculiarly of late; ever since the day 
of the ceremony, in fact. It reminds me too much of the time before we 
declared our love for each other.”

The minstrel winced slightly at his lover’s words; they had hit home. Ever 
since that night, Lindir had practically retreated into that same world he 
had occupied before he and Elrohir had come together. His conscious was 
eating away at him, leaving him on edge, jumping at the slightest noise, 
wondering whether he would encounter Legolas every time he turned a 
corner. He wanted to tell Elrohir, but the fear he felt of losing the other 
elf’s love stifled the urge to do so. But at the same time he knew he could 
not keep it to himself for much longer; even in the short time they had 
been together, Lindir had learnt how relentless the twin could be, breaking 
down any barriers the minstrel had constructed.

Elrohir stepped in front of Lindir, taking the minstrel’s face between his 
hands. “There should be no secrets between us – not any more,” he 
continued more softly. It pained him to see the frightened look in his 
lover’s eyes; he wanted nothing more than to sooth away whatever fears 
Lindir had.

“But…”

“No ‘buts’,” Elrohir said firmly. “We are not leaving this room until you 
tell me.” Lindir closed his eyes. The day of reckoning had arrived. He 
opened his eyes and stared at a point past Elrohir’s shoulder.

“You will hate me.” The words were whispered so softly that Elrohir 
almost did not catch them.

“Hate you? What could have possibly happened that would make me hate 
you? You speak foolishly, pen-dithen.” The minstrel ventured a look at 
Elrohir.

“You will though; as it is I hate myself for what happened…” Lindir eyes 
widened and he covered his mouth with his hand, fearing he had already 
said too much.

Elrohir looked at the minstrel, not knowing how he should proceed. 
Whatever it was, it had disturbed his lover considerably, and the last thing 
he wanted was to add to it.

“I could never hate you; do you trust me so little that you think my 
feelings for you would change?” Lindir’s only reply was to bury his face 
in Elrohir’s chest. The dark-haired elf wrapped his arms around his lover, 
feeling how he trembled. He started stroking Lindir’s back, trying to sooth 
him.

They stood there for some moments before Lindir raised his head to look 
at Elrohir. “Legolas kissed me,” he said simply. “And I let him.”

Stunned, Elrohir could only look at Lindir, totally devoid of words. 

Legolas had kissed Lindir? Legolas had kissed *his* lover, *his* beloved? 
He had taken advantage of Lindir’s innocence, knowing how quiet and 
introspective the minstrel was. And left his lover in a quaking mess 
thinking, no doubt, that he was at fault!

“When! No – let me guess. The day of the bonding ceremony.” Lindir 
nodded wordlessly. He saw the fury in Elrohir’s eyes, and believed it to be 
directed at him.

“I…I am…sorry,” he whispered brokenly, trying to move out of his 
lover’s embrace, only to find the arms tightening around him.

“No, melethen, *you* are not at fault here! Never think that!” Elrohir 
buried his face in Lindir’s bright hair. “Never think that…” he whispered. 
He pulled himself away slightly.

“If anyone is to blame, it is myself…no, let me finish,” he said, noting the 
shocked countenance on his lover’s face. “I know Legolas of old. Though 
I call him ‘friend’, there are times when he has stretched that friendship. I 
know Legolas was not faithful to my brother when they were lovers – he 
made no secret of it. It hurt Elladan, knowing Legolas was bedding others 
during the time they were apart, and it hurt *me* to see my brother 
suffering. In the end, it was this, as well as the distance between the two, 
that caused the relationship to break.” He looked at Lindir and smiled a 
little ruefully. “I know it seems strange to call him ‘friend’, but on 
numerous occasions I and Elladan have had reason to thank him – his skill 
with the bow has helped us out of tricky situations. More than once he has 
risked his life to help us – he is a formidable ally to have. But,” here 
Elrohir sighed, “I should have guessed from the words he used when he 
first met you that the possibility was there he would try something. I am 
afraid to him it is all a game; he does not think of the consequences.”

Both elves were silent for a moment, before Lindir spoke. “He said he had 
kissed you once.”

“Aye, he did. And apologised afterwards, saying he had confused me with 
Elladan. Which was completely untrue; he knew us well enough by then to 
know the difference – but I let it go, though in hindsight I probably should 
not have. But then I had no desire to come between him and my brother, 
though Elladan was not best pleased when he found out.” Elrohir sighed 
once more. “I will talk to him; better still, I will suggest he leave Imladris 
and return to his home. I care not how deep the snows are, as long as he is 
away from here and from you.”

“He…he came and spoke to me the next morning.”

“And what did he say?”

“He said he…he found the kiss most enjoyable. I am afraid I became 
rather…disrespectful towards him.”

Elrohir gazed at Lindir, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You, 
disrespectful? Forgive me, melethen, but I could never imagine you to be 
that.”

“But I was! I told him he had no right to do what he did, that I loved you; 
that he could not presume to come between us… I even told him he was a 
prince and should not behave in such a way.” Lindir took a deep breath. 

“It seems his father has said the same words to him, for he complained I 
sounded like the king, and I…I dared to say he had not taken his father’s 
words to heart. He…he accused me of taking liberties in speaking to him 
in such a fashion, but I told him it was necessary. I just felt…so angry! 
Angry with him for taking such liberties, and angry at myself for allowing 
it to happen…”

“Do not be angry at yourself anymore, Lindir,” Elrohir said, interrupting 
the flow of words, embracing the shaking elf. “I, for one, am glad you did 
let him know of your feelings. I am proud you stood up to him, melethen; 
maybe he will hearken to your words and leave you be.”

“I am worried though…what happens if he says something to Lord 
Elrond?”

Elrohir’s reply was confident. “He will not; he knows he can not lie to my 
father. To complain about you to Adar would only bring to light what he 
has done, and he would be the one coming out of it the worst. No, meleth, 
you have nothing to worry about, so put your mind at ease.”

Lindir sighed, as if a great weight had fallen off his shoulders, and he 
snuggled himself further into Elrohir’s embrace.

‘Well, well, well,’ thought Elrohir, smiling. ‘Who would have believed 
Lindir standing up to Legolas? I wonder how many more surprises my 
little minstrel has in store for me…’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Glorfindel?”

The seneschal sighed and sat at the table, putting his head wearily in his 
hands, oblivious to the amused look of his husband.

“What is it you want to change *this* time?” he queried.

“Nothing.”

Glorfindel raised his head and looked at Erestor. The tone of voice was too 
innocent for his liking.

“Nothing?”

“Nothing,” Erestor confirmed.

“Yet there is something you want, is there not?”

“Only for you to remove your robe – I know you dislike wearing them.”

“Indeed I do, but I recognise the need to don them for council meetings.”

“Whether you need to don them for meetings or not, I only wish for you to 
be comfortable, seron vell.”

Glorfindel gave a slow smile. “I do believe, melethen, you have an ulterior 
motive.”

“The ulterior motive being there is some time before dinner, and I have 
barely seen you the last few days as our duties have kept us apart. You 
have even been out on patrol.”

“Only because of reported orc activity near our borders – it may be winter, 
but occasionally they do venture out.”

“I know.” Erestor sighed. “During the past few nights you have fallen 
asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow, pen-valthennen, and I am 
beginning to feel a little neglected.”

“A little neglected? *That* we can not have, ervainen vorn,” the seneschal 
replied, removing his shoes before standing and shedding the hated 
garment, leaving him in only an undertunic and leggings. “Allow me to 
help you with yours.” Making his way to Erestor, Glorfindel began 
undoing the fastenings on his husband’s robe, gradually parting the fabric 
to reveal…no other stitch of clothing.

The seneschal stared at Erestor. “You mean to tell me you sat through the 
whole meeting wearing nothing but your robe and shoes?”

The advisor smiled. “I thought it would save a little time. Unfortunately, 
you still seem to be over-dressed. This will need to be rectified 
immediately.” He set upon the task quickly, giving Glorfindel no chance 
to make any other comment. The seneschal found himself being propelled 
backwards to their bed before being unceremoniously pushed onto his 
back, his husband straddling him.

“My turn, I think,” he smirked at the bemused seneschal, and proceeded to 
show the golden-haired warrior exactly what he had been missing during 
the last few days.

“Erestor…sweet Elbereth – will you slow down a little?” Glorfindel 
gasped, senses afire at the treatment being meted out by Erestor’s hands, 
tongue and mouth, leaving him quivering.

“I wish I could, melethen, but you are far too desirable at this very 
moment to take this slowly.” The advisor reached over to the small table 
and clasped the bottle of oil standing there. Opening it, he poured some of 
the oil onto his weeping arousal, hissing slightly as the cool liquid came 
into contact with the pulsating heat. Pouring more on his fingers, he let the 
bottle drop onto the floor, not caring whether the remaining oil spilled out 
or not. The preparation was cursory at best, but judging by the way 
Glorfindel was pushing back against his fingers, it seemed the seneschal 
was becoming as desperate as he.

He watched as Glorfindel writhed on the bed, his own need becoming 
almost unbearable. Removing his fingers, he positioned himself before 
thrusting into his husband with one stroke, gasping as velvet heat 
enveloped his throbbing shaft, and he stilled for a moment, wanting to 
enjoy the feeling.

The seneschal reached up with one hand and pulled Erestor’s head down 
to him, claiming his lips in a searing kiss. “Take me hard,” he said as they 
broke the kiss.

“That, melethen, will not be difficult,” the advisor rasped as he began 
moving his hips. “I have wanted this for too long to do otherwise…”

He began thrusting forcefully, almost brutally, his pent-up desires from the 
past few days dictating his movements. Grasping the seneschal’s arousal, 
he started stroking it in time with his thrusts. Completion would be quick 
for both of them, he knew. There would be time later for something more 
leisurely; now was all that mattered.

With a shout Glorfindel came, his seed shooting onto his stomach and on 
Erestor’s hand. His completion brought that of his husband’s, and emitting 
a sound between a moan and a sigh, Erestor spilled himself within the 
seneschal. He slumped on top of Glorfindel, and felt arms enfolding him 
in an embrace.

“Melin chen, ervainen vorn,” Glorfindel whispered in his ear.

“And I you, pen-valthennen – always.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elvish translations:	adar – father
	ervainen vorn – my dark beautiful one
	híren – my lord
	maer aur – good day
	melethen – my love
	melin chen – I love you
	mellonen – my friend
	pen-dithen – little one
	pen-valthennen – my golden one
	pen-vain – beautiful one
	seron vell – dear lover

~~ FINIS ~~