Title: Something Special, Something Sacred
Chapter: Prologue
Author: Orchyd Constyne
Contact: orchydconstyne@hithanaur.net
Website: http://www.hithanaur.net/
Update List: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/nairn_orchyd/
Fandom: LOTR
Disclaimer: I do not own LotR or any characters, lands, or items from
the Tolkien world.  They belong to their respective copyright holders.
Archive: LoM, OEAM, Galadhrim.net, AFF.net, Melethryn
Rating: NC-17 overall
Warnings: Big warning here people.  Stepping outside the usual fluff
and fun.  BDSM -- this means there will be bondage, discipline,
dominance, submission, sadism, and masochism.  It is dark -- and when
you think I can't make it any darker, I will.  Keep in mind, though,
that this is NOT a non-con situation, this is NOT rape, and it is NOT
silk scarves.  This story will depict two adult male individuals --
who are both very sane -- consenting to consensual play, however
intense it may become, but always with a backbone of safety.
Beta: Larien
Cast: Erestor/Glorfindel
Summary: Glorfindel and Erestor enter into a relationship where
Glorfindel may lose everything he is in order to give Erestor all he
desires.

---

Imladris, Third Age 2008

Erestor groaned with frustration.  He thought to ignore the knock on
his chamber door, but anyone disturbing him at this late hour would
not leave until he appeared.  The Councilor sighed and wrapped his
half-nude body in a silken robe.  After a few short moments, he opened
the door to the anxious face of Elrond's Seneschal.

"What is it, Glorfindel?" Erestor asked, trying with incredible effort
to rein in his temper.  The Elda was the most annoying individual
Erestor had ever met; Glorfindel was determined to disturb him at
every inopportune moment.

"Why, Erestor, it is so nice to see you, too."  Glorfindel's sarcasm,
Erestor thought, was the *last* thing he wished to deal with at this
late hour.

"If you have only come to harass me, Lord Seneschal, then I must ask
you to excuse me.  I was in the middle of something when you knocked." 
Erestor stepped back, swinging the door shut, but was stopped when
Glorfindel's heavy boot lodged itself between the door and the frame.

Glorfindel's blue eyes flared dangerously in the low light of the hall
and Erestor resigned himself to having at least a short conversation
with his fellow lord.  "If you wish to speak, Glorfindel, then do so. 
I have little patience this night and you are quickly rending me of
what I did have."

"It's nice to know that you are your cheerful self no matter what the
time or place may be," Glorfindel quipped.  "Lord Elrond asked me to
tell you Lady Arwen and Lady Celebrian will return tomorrow morning
with Lord Celeborn."

Erestor let out an exasperated hiss.  "His rooms aren't even properly
aired."  He would have to be up before the first light of morning if
he was to prepare for Lord Celeborn.  "Very well.  Thank you for the
message.  It seems I should retire soon."

Glorfindel nodded, bowing slightly.  "Maer fuin."  The Elda turned
from Erestor's intense gaze and walked down the hall and out of the
Noldo's sight.

Erestor closed the door softly, thinking to himself.  Celeborn.  It
had been a many years since had last seen his Lady's father.  A smirk
crossed Erestor's lips.  He was sure Celeborn would seek him out upon
his arrival; the Councilor would only be too happy to oblige.

He passed through the main antechamber in his suite and emerged into
the large, opulent bedchamber within.  His eyes swept over the room,
taking note of the furniture and tapestries, the books and sculptures. 
Erestor had spent many, many years collecting his numerous
possessions.  Elrond sometimes teased his friend that they would soon
have to designate a whole wing to the Councilor's hobbies and
collections.

Erestor let his robe fall from his slender shoulders and he draped it
over one of several chairs in the room.  Lindir had once asked him why
he had the furniture he did: a massive solid wood four poster bed, a
sturdy table, quite a few chairs of varying height and design, among
many other pieces.  His answer had made the poor minstrel blush.

The Noldo leaned over to one of the side tables and retrieved his
half-finished glass of wine and his riding crop.  Walking across the
room to the low table, Erestor sipped thoughtfully.  Lindir was
beautiful; the young Elf's long, almost white hair had been a source
of fascination for Erestor.  Chuckling, he remembered it was that same
trait that had drawn the Elf-lord into Celeborn's bed.

He put his glass down then ran a hand over his bare chest, his eyes
going dark with lust.  Lindir, Celeborn... Glorfindel.  The Elda was a
constant source of irritation and desire for Erestor.  He longed to
possess the golden Lord, but Glorfindel was too proud, too vain to
share Erestor's bed.  But, Erestor could fantasize.  Closing his eyes,
he ran his hand further down his body and lightly traced the bulge in
his sleeping trousers.  Yes, what he wouldn't give to have Glorfindel
to himself for a few short hours...

Erestor opened his eyes and took in the sight before him. Lindir lay
belly down on the table, his legs spread wide and bound to the legs at
the foot of the table.  The young Silvan Elf was gagged and his arms
were stretched out and bound to the legs at the table's head.  The
pale skin of the minstrel's back, buttocks, and thighs was
crisscrossed with red welts and dark bruises.  Erestor knelt before
the flushed, tear-stained face and smiled darkly.

"Good boy," he soothed, smoothing the mussed hair.  "Not a sound.  I
am impressed."  Erestor's voice was low and even, almost comforting if
not for the position Lindir found himself in.  The Councilor stood and
walked to stand behind and just to the left of the bound Elf.  "Now,"
he said, raising the crop.  "Where were we?"

TBC...

English/Elvish:
Maer fuin : Good night

Title: Something Special, Something Sacred
Chapter: Chapter One : All I Ever Wanted

---

Imladris, Third Age 2032

Glorfindel's eyes cleared slowly, a smile crossing his perfect lips. 
He had been dreaming of onyx eyes and ivory skin.  The Balrog-slayer
looked out the balcony doors from his position on the bed; the light
of early morning spilled into the room and warmed his spirit. 
Glorfindel felt the bed shift beside him and his smile grew wider.  A
long, cool finger made it's way from the top of his cleft to the
bottom, and then traced the underside of his buttocks.

"Maer aur."  The smooth, velvety voice caused a shiver to run through
his body.

His eyes closed as warm lips peppered kisses over his shoulder and
upper back.  "Aur," he replied, sighing happily.  Erestor began to
suckle at the base of his neck, and he tilted his head further,
offering Erestor more of his flesh.

Erestor's tongue traced the curve of his ear, the Noldo's hot breath
caressing the sensitive skin.  "We have the Council session this day,
do we not?" the Councilor asked, one of his slender, powerful arms
wrapping around him and pulling his body against the dark Elf's. 
Glorfindel shifted his hips, settling Erestor's arousal in the crevice
of his backside.

"Aye, midmorning."  Glorfindel entwined his fingers with the hand that
stoked his belly.

A deep chuckle tickled his ear. "Then we have plenty of time,
melethron."  Erestor disentangled their fingers and teased his nipples
into tight peaks.

Glorfindel gasped and squirmed against the firm body behind him.  He
was lost to the sensations Erestor could call forth from him.  He had
lived with Erestor for over a decade now, and that was only after a
four-year courtship.  He was brought from his thoughts sharply when
Erestor bit the back of his neck.

"Am I boring you, melethen?" the Councilor asked.

"Never," Glorfindel whispered.

The two Elves shifted positions so that Glorfindel lay on his back
with his legs spread wide to accommodate Erestor between them.  He
arched his back slightly, allowing Erestor to slip his arms beneath
his lithe form.  He let out a soft sigh when Erestor's warm lips
touched his throat, leaving a damp trail in his wake.  Erestor, he
mused, always made love to him as if he were worshipping him.

The dark-haired Noldo slowly tasted and teased Glorfindel's flesh,
fingers dancing over sensitive areas, causing heat to pool within the
Elda's loins.  Glorfindel gave only soft mewls and gasps, his eyes
dark indigo with his lust.  He watched Erestor tease a nipple into a
tight peak, lapping at the nub and then blowing gently to further
tighten the flesh.  He brought his hands up as he closed his eyes,
savoring the thick, heavy weight of Erestor's ink-black hair.  He had
always found his lover exotic; though the Councilor was Noldorin, as
his coloring showed, those traits were exaggerated in him.

Erestor possessed skin as white and smooth as fresh cream, always
shown to its greatest advantage by the rich colors the Noldo wore. 
Glorfindel found Erestor to be the most striking in the lush burgundy
velvets he donned for his office, the deep reds bringing out what he
thought were rust colored highlights in the ebony tresses.

Elrond's Chief Councilor possessed a warrior's physique, not that of a
sedentary scholar.  Erestor possessed amazing strength and prowess
upon the training field, but those battle-hardened skills were never
used upon Glorfindel.  No, the Noldo never used a rough hand or a
harsh touch when touching his golden flower.  As Erestor's talented
mouth tasted his belly, Glorfindel thought that sometimes it seemed,
Erestor forgot he was a warrior.

Glorfindel's thoughts were briefly interrupted when Erestor's mouth
found the point of his hip, nibbling and stroking the sensitive area. 
He moaned low in his throat as Erestor tasted the delicate skin at the
juncture of his thigh, and his arousal swelled further.  The Noldo's
ruby lips placed feather-light kisses from the base to the top of his
desire, the Councilor's pink tongue darting out to tease the slit. 
Glorfindel opened his eyes and his breath stopped.

Erestor lay between his thighs, a hand on each of his hips, the
Noldo's mouth hovering above the tip of his length.  Erestor's eyes
kept his trapped, and he trembled as he watched his lover slowly
engulf him.  Erestor had piercing eyes, Glorfindel mused, his head
falling back against the pillows and his eyes closing once more.  Even
with his vision gone, he could still see those eyes; still feel the
heated gaze upon him.

Those bottomless orbs were what had truly captured the Elda's heart. 
Most of the Noldor he knew had grey eyes, the color of storm clouds. 
Erestor's eyes, though, were black as pitch.  When Glorfindel looked
into those pools of ink, he felt possessed.  Erestor could ask him for
anything, demand he perform any act, and he would willingly do it. 
Eyes that were so cold in the Council room when dealing with diplomats
and Kings would become liquid warmth when regarding him.  And that
look, the look of utter love and devotion Erestor would bestow him,
was worth his very soul.

Glorfindel arched sharply, his eyes snapping open as Erestor swallowed
him to the root and slid a slick digit within him.  It was times like
these, in the early morning light or the silence of the evening, when
Erestor owned his body and spoke to his heart.

A second finger joined the first, stretching him, thrusting deep
within his body.

"Erestor..." he whispered, savoring the feel of the Councilor's name
on his tongue.  He lifted his legs further, and briefly caressed his
lover's cheek.  Erestor smiled and added a third finger.  The Elda
cried out, wadding the bedclothes in his fists.

When he opened his eyes again, Erestor's face hovered above his, the
Noldo's lips almost touching his own.  "I am going to take you now,
pen-velui."  Erestor's voice was a soothing tenor, one that never rose
in anger or became sharp with annoyance.  It was a steady tone, just
as steady as the Elf himself.  Glorfindel nodded, holding his breath
as his arousal throbbed between them.

Erestor brought their mouths together, and Glorfindel opened to the
Councilor's onslaught; the Noldo seemed to devour him.  Glorfindel
threaded his hands into those satiny tresses once more and rotated his
hips up, begging silently with his lover.  In one, fluid thrust,
Erestor entered him.  Glorfindel was relaxed, was aroused, and he
whimpered into their kiss.  He had always felt he and Erestor fit
perfectly together.  They moved in tandem, seeking their mutual
release.

Glorfindel watched Erestor's face as they made love.  The charcoal
eyes were closed to him, thick, sooty lashes fluttered against the
flushed skin of Erestor's face.  He moaned when Erestor's thrusts
became deeper but the pace never increased.  This was one of the
Noldo's favorite games; he wanted him to plead for his release.  The
control Erestor possessed still amazed him.

Glorfindel briefly remembered the first time Erestor had played this
game with him, although he hadn't known the rules then; it had taken
him the better part of the night to figure them out.  Never once in
those long hours of torture had Erestor rushed, he had not pushed or
even spoken.  No, Erestor had spent hours working him into a
smothering frenzy of lust and need.  Glorfindel had begged.  He had
pleaded.  The great Chief of the Golden Flower had implored the dark
Elf to take him, to bring an end to the torment.

And Erestor had.

"Please, Erestor," he panted before he nipped at Erestor's bottom lip. 
"Leitho nin, Erestor."  He pushed against Erestor and moaned softly.

"Aye, melethen," Erestor whispered hotly against Glorfindel's ear.

Glorfindel cried out when Erestor wrapped his hand around his hot
column of flesh.  He wrapped his legs around Erestor's waist and
encouraged him to thrust faster, only to have his lover still
completely.

"Glorfindel," Erestor said firmly.  He opened his eyes and let his
legs fall back to the bed.  Erestor smiled and kissed him deeply. 
"Maer."

Erestor began moving again, his pace the same as ever.  Glorfindel
could feel the slow and sure build of his release.  "Please...
Erestor..." he sobbed, the room brightening as full morning invaded
their suite.  Erestor closed his eyes and Glorfindel felt the grip on
his shaft tighten.  Erestor was ready.

They moved quickly, Erestor no longer withdrawing in long, slow
movements, but in short, deep thrusts.  Glorfindel met him push for
shove, a keening wail leaving his lips when Erestor's thumb rubbed the
weeping head of his length.  Glorfindel was close now; his thighs were
tight and his back arched, his hands fisted at his sides as he held
his breath.

"Tolo, Glorfindel," Erestor breathed against his ear.

It was as if a floodgate had been opened within his body, and his
throat released a strangled scream.  His seed coated Erestor's hand
and his own belly, his body trembling in the aftershocks of the
intense orgasm.  Erestor stilled his movements and Glorfindel heard
him release a long sigh.  Glorfindel shook with several more tremors
as Erestor filled his body with his essence, just as composed and
silent as if he were in the Council room.

They were opposites.  Completely.  Where Glorfindel was bright,
Erestor was dark.  Glorfindel was vocal and open; Erestor was resigned
and closed.  Their lovemaking reflected their life together and
Glorfindel had never found a cause for complaint.  Their differences,
he thought, complimented each other and he loved his silent, midnight
Elf.

Erestor lay atop him, nuzzling his neck contentedly.  "Melin chen,
Erestor," he said softly, stroking the smooth skin of his lover's
back.

"Melin chen, Glorfindel," was the quiet response.  "We shall be late
if we do not rise from the bed."

Glorfindel kissed Erestor's brow and smiled.  "I could remain here all
day, with you as you are."

Erestor chuckled, pulling his softening member from Glorfindel's body. 
"We must bathe, meleth.  Come, get up and join me for a quick dip in
the pool."

Glorfindel stretched and rolled out of the bed.  "As you command, my
Lord Councilor."

*****

"You two were late for the meeting this morning, meldir.  Did you
oversleep?"

Glorfindel looked up into Elrond's pewter eyes, dancing with mirth. 
"Are you accusing your stoic Councilor of sleeping late?"  Glorfindel
lifted one blond eyebrow elegantly.

"No, I am accusing my insatiable Seneschal of keeping my stoic
Councilor in bed against his better judgment."  Elrond sat in one of
Glorfindel's plush chairs and smiled at his friend.

Glorfindel smirked and went back to the duty roster before him.  "I
don't recall him complaining," he mumbled.

Elrond let out a loud laugh and shook his head.  "I am pleased you are
both so happy, Glorfindel.  I must admit, I had my concerns when you
first began courting him."

The Seneschal looked up with clouded eyes.  "Why?"

"Come now, Glorfindel," Elrond said, his tone becoming serious.  "You
and all of Imladris know that Erestor has never kept one lover longer
than a few years, and he has never *lived* with any of them."

"Perhaps he was simply waiting for the right Elf, Elrond."  Glorfindel
stood and walked from behind his desk, his back stiff.

"Meldir, I did not mean to offend you," Elrond said, craning his neck
to watch Glorfindel pace in agitation.

"Do you not think I *knew*, Elrond?  I knew I was risking a lot when I
sought him.  But, he loves me.  And," he turned bright azure eyes on
Elrond, "I love him."  Glorfindel sighed.

Elrond rose, approached his friend and put his hand on the warrior's
shoulder.  "Forgive me, Glorfindel.  I did not mean to upset you."

Glorfindel shook his head.  "Nay, Elrond, it is not you.  It is
Erestor."

"What do you mean?"  Elrond's eyes darkened with concern.

Glorfindel waved his hand about in frustration.  "There is something
not right within our relationship, something he keeps from me.  He
does not give all of himself to me as I feel I do to him.  It has
become more... pronounced in these later years."  He turned his gaze
back to Elrond.  "I worry he has grown tired of me."

Elrond smiled sadly.  "I am sorry, meldir.  Have you spoken with him?"

Glorfindel shook his head.

"I would suggest you do so before jumping to conclusions.  He is your
lover, and he deserves to have his say if you feel he is withholding
from you."

The Elda nodded, his eyes on the floor.  "I will speak with him after
I deliver the new roster to Lindir."

Elrond nodded.  "If you need anything, Glorfindel, *anything* --
please, feel free to come to me.  The three of us have known one
another long years; I would hate to see a rift form now."

Glorfindel smiled.  "I will, Elrond.  Thank you for your concern."

The Lord of Imladris nodded and gave a gentle squeeze to Glorfindel's
shoulder.  "I will see you both at the evening meal."

Glorfindel nodded and watched Elrond leave his office.  He knew he had
to speak with Erestor, that he could put the conversation off no
longer.  However, it didn't mean he had to look forward to the
occasion.  He sighed and retrieved the roster, hurrying to the
barracks to give his Captain the new duty roster.

TBC...

English/Elvish:
Maer aur : Good morning
Melethron : Lover (masc)
Melethen : My love
Pen-velui : Lovely one
Leitho nin : Release me
Maer : Good
Tolo : Come
Melin chen : I love you
Meleth : Love

Title: Something Special, Something Sacred
Chapter: Chapter Two : Understand Me

---

Imladris, Third Age 2032

Erestor filed away the last of the day's work and stretched, letting
out a deep sigh.  It had been a productive day and the work left over
could easily be handled the next day.  He wanted to return to his
chambers as soon as he could and wait for his lover.

His mouth curved into a wistful smile.  No other Elf had ever captured
Erestor's heart as Glorfindel had.  For many, many years, Erestor had
watched the golden Lord, teased him about his frivolous ways, and took
in stride the cheeky comments Glorfindel sent his way.  He still
didn't know how they had ended up courting one another; but within a
few years, Erestor had asked Glorfindel to move into his rooms. 
Elrond had been surprised when Erestor had informed the Elf-lord that
Glorfindel's suites were now available, but his friend had kept his
comments to himself.

Ten years later, and Erestor was still as happy as he had been when
they first began their relationship.  He finished straightening his
desk and took one last look about.  Everything was set for the next
day and Erestor was free to return to his quarters.  He was walking
out the door when Elrond chose to walk in.

"Erestor!"  Elrond caught the Councilor's upper arm and smiled.  "I
wish to have a word with you; do you have time?"

Erestor shoved his annoyance aside.  "I was heading to my chambers to
await Glorfindel, my Lord."

Elrond pulled Erestor back into the office, shutting the door firmly
behind them.  "Do not worry over Glorfindel.  He had some work to do
in the barracks today and should arrive just in time for the evening
meal."

The Noldo sighed and took a seat near the large windows in his office,
motioning for Elrond to join him.  "I am assuming this is not official
Imladris business, is it, meldir?"  He smiled knowingly at his friend
and crossed his legs.

The Peredhel sat down, crossing his own legs and folding his hands in
his lap.  "How astute of you."

"Then what is it you want to discuss?"

Elrond took a deep breath and looked out over the valley. 
"Glorfindel."

Erestor's smile disappeared and his eyes became cold.  "What about
him?"

The dark grey eyes of his long-time friend turned to him and Erestor
felt his heart speed.  Elrond had always elicited such a response from
him.  "Does he know, Erestor?"

Elrond's tone of voice left no room for Erestor to argue.  He slipped
into an age-old routine, one Elrond had personally ingrained in him. 
"No, sir," was the quiet, respectful response.

"Erestor, we are not in that room.  I am no master of you.  I am your
friend.  Do not confuse the two.  It has been many years, meldir; one
would think you would know the difference by now."  Elrond smirked at
him and Erestor's eyes flashed.

"I did not know respect was something I should no longer offer you."

The Half-Elf shook his head.  "Respect is one thing, but your tone was
as if you knelt before me and I had asked you if you had touched
yourself while I was away."

Erestor felt his face flush at the memory of that exact scenario from
centuries past.  "Thank you for reminding me, Elrond."

Elrond smiled.  "Why have you not told him?"

"Do you honestly believe that it would make any difference in our
relationship?"  Erestor kept his eyes trained on something out the
window, refusing to meet his Lord's gaze.

"I think it could make a great deal of difference."

Erestor sighed and cast his eyes to the floor.  "And *that* is why I
have not told him."

*****

Glorfindel walked from his Captain's office and headed back toward the
main house.  He looked up into the afternoon sky and gauged it to be a
few hours still before the evening meal.  The Seneschal decided to
make his way to his rooms, to surprise his lover when he returned; but
as he passed by one of the many fountains in Imladris, he heard a
familiar voice.

"I do not understand why he avoids me!" sighed Haldir.

Glorfindel slowed his pace, listening to the private conversation on
the other side of the dense hedge.

"He cannot very well seek you out, meldir."  That was Lindir.  Who
were they speaking of?

"Why?"

Lindir chuckled at Haldir's annoyed, desperate tone.  "Lord Erestor is
now Lord Glorfindel's."

A shocked intake of breath from Haldir caused Glorfindel to stop
entirely.

"The mighty Balrog-slayer submits to Erestor's will?" Haldir quipped
in disbelief.

Glorfindel's brow furrowed.  Submit?

"Why not, Haldir?" Lindir asked.  "I think the golden Lord would do
anything for Erestor."

Haldir snorted.  "I cannot see him in any of the positions you or I
have been in, Lindir."

"And what positions would those be?" Lindir challenged.

Glorfindel's heart was racing.

"Oh, come now, Lindir, do not act so innocent.  You and I know
differently."  Haldir's voice had dropped seductively.  "Tell me, am I
the only one he has bent over that table in his rooms?"  Glorfindel
heard Lindir's sharp intake of breath.  "I see I am not, dear Lindir. 
Did he use his crop or the whip upon you?"

The Seneschal's eyes widened.  They could not be serious!

"Both."  They were serious.

Haldir sighed.  "I miss the games, the release he offered after
such... exquisite pain."

"I had not known how intense and wonderful it could be.  Lord
Glorfindel had interrupted us the first night he dominated me.  I
could not sit the entire day and I could swear everyone knew what I
had permitted Erestor to do... that I craved the next session he would
invite me to."  Lindir sounded wistful and Glorfindel's eyes stung.

He didn't seem to know his lover as well as he thought.  Below the
soft caresses, the loving words and tender moments lay a violent
beast, it seemed.

"You do not believe Glorfindel submits to him in such a way?" Haldir
now asked.

"Nay.  There is something in his eyes when he looks at Erestor that
says otherwise."  Lindir stood, and Glorfindel swallowed hard.  "Do
you think perhaps Erestor submits to him?"

Haldir let out a loud, harsh laugh.  "I have never known Erestor to
submit to anyone.  I do not think it is in his nature.  He could no
more submit to Glorfindel than I could become a hawk!"

Their voices faded as they left the small courtyard, but Glorfindel's
heart still beat its fast, panicked rhythm.  He turned his eyes back
to the main house and took a deep breath.  It seemed it was time to
finally learn what it was that Erestor had been hiding from him for
over a decade, what he had been holding back from his lover.

And why.

*****

Erestor undressed as he watched his lover warily.  Glorfindel had been
silent since he had returned to the house that afternoon.  He had
barely spoken during the evening meal, had hardly touched the food on
his plate.  Glorfindel also avoided Erestor's touch, his gaze. 
Erestor pulled on his sleeping robe and began to plait his hair in one
long rope.  His lover was slipping into sleeping trousers and a long
nightshirt, which was odd.  Glorfindel usually slept nude at Erestor's
side.

"Is something the matter, melethen?  You are awfully quiet, even
distracted."  Erestor pulled back the sheet and coverlet, sitting
slowly on the soft mattress.

Glorfindel lay on the bed with his back facing Erestor.  "Nothing is
the matter.  I was just thinking."

Erestor's brow furrowed, and he turned, putting his hand on his
lover's back.  It was not like Glorfindel to be so curt.  "Thinking of
what?"  When Glorfindel did not answer, Erestor sighed in frustration. 
"Come now, meleth, I would know what it is that troubles you!" he said
in a voice harsher than he'd intended.

The Elda turned just enough to bring his smoldering gaze level with
Erestor's.  "Or you'll use the crop on me?" he said acidly.

The Noldo flinched as though burned.  "I would *never* harm you!"

"Tell me, then, what offense could Lindir have committed that set you
upon him thus?  Or Haldir, perhaps?"

Erestor could not believe what he was hearing.  What in Arda had come
over Glorfindel?  "Lindir?  Haldir?  Have they told you that I harmed
them?"

"They might as well have!  They were comparing their 'battle wounds'
-- sharing stories of beatings inflicted by you!"

'Oh, Elrond,' thought Erestor.  'How right you were.  And how blind
was I not to have foreseen this.'  He sighed heavily, a sound of
resignation and regret.  "This is not something you should have first
heard from others."

Glorfindel leapt up from the bed, turning to stare down at Erestor,
his eyes reflecting hurt and anger.  "Certainly not!  But, then again,
it does not seem as though you ever intended to tell me yourself."

Erestor stood from the bed as well and held out his hands in a sign of
surrender.  "I know and I do apologize, melethen," he said softly.  "I
would like to talk to you about this, but I think it should be outside
of our bed."  At the uncertain look Glorfindel gave him, Erestor
chuckled.  "It is a very long story."

He motioned for Glorfindel to join him at the small dining table they
shared in their suite.  Erestor poured them both goblets of deep red
wine and sat in the chair, sipping delicately and regarding his lover
with a curious eye.  This was not how Erestor would have chosen to
have this discussion, for Glorfindel was already suspicious of his
behavior.  Erestor sighed and put his glass down, leaning back in his
chair and crossing his legs.

"Let me begin by saying that I have never raised crop, cane or whip to
anyone who had not fully understood and completely consented to such
an act."

Glorfindel's eyes were wide as saucers.  "Who, Erestor, would ask to
be beaten by another?"

Erestor chuckled.  "You might be surprised, pen-velui."  He took a
deep breath before continuing.  "Submission can be a very liberating
feeling, and there are those who crave that sensation.  Just as there
are those like myself who crave creating that sensation."

"How can you say that submission is liberating?"

Erestor's eyes became hooded and he smiled gently at his lover.  "It
frees you from having to make decisions, from having to be in control;
it releases you from responsibly and consequence.  However, I ensure
that my partners are not stripped of every vestige of control.  They
have but to say a word, and I agree to stop anything I am doing."

"But does that not mean that *they* are in control and not you?  If,
as you say, they have the final word."

"I wish there were an easy answer to your question; a simple way to
explain it to you.  As long as I have been involved in this lifestyle,
though, I have never found the words.  All I can really say is that
just because they are entrusted with a way to cease all play, that
does not mean they have any control over what that play entails."

Glorfindel scoffed.  "You call it 'play'?"

Erestor sipped his wine thoughtfully.  "Aye, I do.  Just as I refer to
my submissive as 'partners' and not 'lovers', I refer to the act as
'play' not 'lovemaking'.  For there is a distinct difference."

"Are you saying you never take them to your bed?  Lindir and Haldir
have never been with you intimately?" Glorfindel asked disbelievingly.

Erestor smiled once again.  "That is exactly what I am saying.  Other
than you, my dear Glorfindel, I have taken only two others into my
bed.  In three long Ages, only three know me thusly."

Glorfindel shook his head and crossed his arms.  "I do not understand. 
Lindir seemed to speak of the time he spent with you as sexual.  Does
this mean he was one of the two previous lovers you had?"

"No, and neither was Haldir.  While the experience can be pleasurable
and, yes, even sexual, there was no penetration, no act of
copulation."  Erestor knew he was being incredibly dispassionate about
the topic, something that had dominated his personal life for more
centuries than he could count, but Glorfindel needed logic, not
passion.

"Then what is the point if not physical gratification?"

Erestor shook his head, leaning forward to rest his arms on the table. 
"I did not say there was no physical gratification.  To some, the
sting of the crop is most gratifying."

Glorfindel's eyes were full of confusion.  "But, does it not hurt?"

"Naturally.  That is, of course, the intent.  However, there is a
difference between hurting and harming.  I have never intentionally
harmed anyone.  Hurting, though, is a different matter.  The pain that
I inflict on my partners is very close to pleasure for them because
they are greatly aroused.  It is simply another form of strong feeling
that they experience as pleasurable."

"And what is it you receive from inflicting these punishments?"

He closed his eyes briefly, calling to mind the face of Lindir,
remembering the sounds the writhing body of the minstrel would make
with each fall of the cane.  When he opened his dark eyes, they were
dilated with lust.  "You are asking if I become aroused?  Aye."

Glorfindel paled visibly.  "How?" he asked in a low voice.

"You remember when I told you how much I enjoy the sounds you make
during our lovemaking?"  Glorfindel nodded.  "A moan of pleasure,
meleth, is not so different from a groan of pain.  There are few
sights more beautiful than a body stretched out beneath me, trembling
with pleasure and lust.  To know that I have brought such feelings out
in them brings me great joy and ignites my own passions."

"What you just described, Erestor, is what you and I do nightly.  I do
not see the difference."

Erestor smiled at the bright, open eyes of his companion.  How he
loved the Elda.  "Exactly.  Whether it is through tenderness as when
we come together or with any of a dozen tools wielded with a heavy
hand as with those such as Lindir, the emotion shared is the same."

Glorfindel sighed.  "Why did you never speak of this before now?  Why
did I have to come to you?"

He looked away from the imploring gaze over to their rumpled bed. 
Erestor drained the rest of his wine.  "It did not seem important to
speak of.  Such play was not what I sought from you.  I fell in love
with you and I desired a relationship with an equal, not an Elf I
could subjugate.  You wooed, we courted and now we love.  I did not
want you to simply submit to me."

"It is still something you should have shared with me, Erestor,"
Glorfindel chided him.

Erestor cleared his throat, refusing to look his lover in the eye. 
"Do you love me any less now that you know?"  It was a rare thing for
him to show such vulnerability, but he loved the golden Lord more than
he had ever thought he might.  The possibility of losing him over what
had occurred in his past frightened Erestor.

He heard Glorfindel gasp.  "Of course not!  I only mean that I should
have been offered the choice.  I should have been allowed to decide
for myself if such activities would be included in our bedroom."

Erestor's mouth opened, but no sound would come forth.  He blinked
once and tried again.  "Are you saying... you are interested in such a
thing?"  This was more than he had ever dared hope for.  He would have
been happy to love Glorfindel until the end of Arda, but to be offered
the ability to indulge in this type of play with one he held dear...

Glorfindel was silent for a moment.  "I love you, pen-hael, and I wish
to understand this aspect of your life.  I think the only way I will
do that is by taking part in it."  Glorfindel held Erestor's gaze
levelly and added in a quick rush, "That is, if you so desire it."

"If you truly want to experience this, then there are some things you
need to know before we even begin the most basic lesson."  Erestor
stood and refilled his goblet.

"First and foremost, you must trust me.  I will not promise to be
gentle, and I will not promise not to push your limits.  But, I do
promise that I will never harm you and will stop if you tell me to.  I
am a different person, Glorfindel, during a session.  Harsher and more
demanding of respect."  Erestor walked over to Glorfindel and looked
down into the warm, sapphire eyes.  "There will be rules that you must
follow, and there will be consequences should you not.  Do you
understand this?" he asked softly, cupping Glorfindel's cheek with his
hand.

"I understand," was Glorfindel's breathless reply.

"And do you still desire to pursue this?"  Erestor would give his love
every opportunity to withdraw his consent to such treatment.

Glorfindel swallowed, his eyes never leaving Erestor's dark gaze. 
"Aye."

Erestor swooped down and took Glorfindel's mouth with his own,
thrusting his tongue into the sweet warmth that opened to him
immediately.  When he pulled back, Glorfindel's eyes were indigo and
his cheeks were flushed with passion.  Erestor licked his lips,
savoring the taste of his lover, before smirking down at the Elda. 
"Then, melethron, tomorrow night, we shall begin your lesson." 
Erestor leaned in, running his tongue the length of Glorfindel's ear. 
He whispered hotly to his lover, "Tonight, though, I intend to have
you writhing beneath me with only my touch."

TBC...

English/Elvish:
Melethen : My love
Meleth : Love
Pen-velui : Lovely one
Pen-hael : Wise one

Title: Something Special, Something Sacred
Chapter: Chapter Three : Whatever You Ask For

---

Imladris, Third Age 2032

Glorfindel sat at his desk, rereading the slip of paper in front of
him for the fifth time.  He'd spent most of the morning feeling a mix
of anticipation and nervous dread at the thought of what the night
would bring.  Then, just after lunch, a page delivered a note from
Erestor, the same note he was now reading for the sixth time.

'Melethen,' it read.  'We shall begin your lesson as soon as you walk
into our chambers tonight.  Be prepared.'  The brief letter was signed
with Erestor's personal seal.

Needless to say, the note enhanced both feelings currently swirling
within him.  Be prepared?  How was one to prepare for...  What exactly
was he preparing for, anyway?

Glorfindel could not concentrate for the rest of the afternoon, and
decided to retreat to the dining hall early to take his evening meal. 
Strangely, though, his lover did not come to take his meal as he
usually did, and Glorfindel found himself even more preoccupied.

"Lord Glorfindel?"  He turned to the speaker, his eyes slightly
unfocused.

"Yes, Elladan?" he asked distractedly.

Elrohir answered him.  "Where is Lord Erestor?"

Glorfindel's eyes widened slightly.  "Erestor?" he echoed weakly.

"Aye," Elladan said.  "Have you two fought?"

He shook his head.  "Nay, Erestor is in our chambers preparing..." he
trailed off, not sure how to complete his statement.  Luckily, Elrond
came to his rescue.

"That sounds like Erestor," the Imladrian Lord mused.  "Never one to
let food come between him and his work.  I will have one of the
servants set a tray of bread and cheese outside his door."  Elrond
sipped his wine, his storm-colored eyes holding Glorfindel's sapphire
blue ones.

Glorfindel's breath hitched in his throat and he looked away from the
wise gaze.  He'd said, "outside his door," as if he knew what would be
going on inside.  No, there was no way that Elrond would know what he
and Erestor had planned for the evening, especially when Glorfindel
did not know.  "You are most kind, my Lord," he mumbled, pushing his
plate away from him and signaling to the wait-staff he was done.

The Elda took a deep breath and offered his dear friend a smile.  He
stood and bid his Lord goodnight, walking slowly to his chambers. 
Glorfindel knew he had put off the inevitable as long as he could,
and, with a knot twisting his stomach, he navigated the halls until he
stood outside his door.

He took a tentative step inside.  The room was lit by a myriad of
candles placed around the perimeter.  The constant flickering threw
dancing shadows against the wall, adding to the mysterious feel. 
Erestor was nowhere in the room, though, and Glorfindel hesitantly
ventured another step forward.

"Stop!"  The voice boomed out of the shadows.  Glorfindel froze.  For
a moment, nothing stirred.  Then, a movement from his left drew the
Elf's attention.  An ornate tapestry, which had hung on that wall for
as long as Erestor had inhabited this room, began to move aside,
seemingly of its own accord.  Then the candles flickered again, and
Glorfindel saw Erestor emerging from behind the fabric.  He could
discern a soft sound, like the click of a door being closed, before
the tapestry fell back into place.

Erestor stepped fully into the large room, and Glorfindel could only
stare at this new side of his lover.  The Noldo was shirtless, clad
only in simple black leggings made of a silken material that shimmered
in the play of the candlelight.  His raven hair was twisted and bound
into a single thick braid reaching down his bare back, a stark
contrast to his pale skin.  His eyes held a severity that Glorfindel
had seen only once before -- on that night nearly fifteen years ago
when he had apparently interrupted this same sort of evening between
Erestor and Lindir.

Glorfindel remained motionless as Erestor walked slowly around him,
looking him up and down, as though appraising his worth.  When the
dark Elf stood once again before Glorfindel, his expression softened
almost imperceptibly for a moment, then returned to its harsh stare.

"From now until the time I release you," Erestor began without
preamble, his voice a cutting baritone that caused Glorfindel's heart
to race, "and any other time you come before me thus, you will address
me only as 'Sir' and speak only when spoken to.  Failure to show me
this respect will be punished.  Without my leave, no word shall fall
from your lips *save one*.  That is the word *kelu*.  If you speak
this word during a session, all actions will cease immediately and for
the remainder of that evening.  Do not, I caution you, use this word
idly, often, or without good cause.  Do you understand?"

Glorfindel swallowed.  "Yes."  Erestor's eyes narrowed, and Glorfindel
hastily added, "Sir."

Erestor's lips twisted into a suggestion of a smile, and he paced back
and forth in front of Glorfindel as he continued speaking.  "Good. 
Furthermore, you will not look me directly in the eye unless directed
to do so.  You will focus your gaze straight ahead at all times unless
told otherwise.  Do you understand?"

He was reminded of the many times he had interrupted a lesson the
Councilor would be giving the twins; he was sure this wouldn't be much
different other than the subject matter.  "Yes, Sir," Glorfindel
replied without hesitation, struggling to keep his eyes forward and
not focused on Erestor's movements.

"Good."  Erestor stepped behind Glorfindel, and the Elda fought the
urge to turn his head.  He felt Erestor's cool hands on his head,
smoothing out his hair before swiftly arranging it into a single plait
that was then twisted, looped and pinned so that the blond locks were
off his back.  Erestor's hands reached around his body next and pulled
the thick robes from his shoulders, letting them pool at his feet. 
The deft fingers then loosened the ties at the neck of his undershirt
and the waist of his trousers.

Erestor slid the trousers past his slender hips, and then lifted his
feet one at a time to remove the fabric completely.  Glorfindel had
been undressed by his lover many times over the course of their
relationship, but this time, as cloth fell from his body, he was
unnerved by the clinical efficiency Erestor used.  Erestor lifted his
arms above his head and pulled the undershirt free, discarding it as
he had the rest of his clothing.  Only then did the Noldo move from
behind him.

Automatically, Glorfindel's eyes darted toward Erestor, but he
remembered his lover's rules and quickly returned his gaze forward. 
He felt rather than saw Erestor's eyes upon him, and he suddenly felt
very exposed and embarrassed, a feeling that intensified as he became
gradually aware of his arousal stirring between his legs.

"Put your arms by your side," Erestor was saying, and Glorfindel
snapped back from his introspection to obey.  He was then ordered to
move his hands behind his back, palms out, fingers laced.  He complied
without comment, though he could not help but blush as he realized the
way that position thrust his hips forward and accentuated his
now-erect member.

"This is Position Zero.  Take careful note of the position of your
body.  If ever I call out 'Position Zero', you will immediately move
into this exact posture."  Erestor moved as he spoke, once again out
of Glorfindel's field of vision.  When he returned, he carried a
length of pale, golden leather in his hand.  He held it by both ends,
displaying it for Glorfindel.  Its purpose was still a mystery, but it
was clearly a restraint of some sort.  A mithril buckle was attached
to one end; the other had a series of notches.  Directly in the
middle, a single sapphire jewel, the same shade as his eyes, was
prominently displayed.

Erestor stood directly in front of Glorfindel.  "This is your collar. 
It is a mark of submission, and you will wear it for the duration of a
session.  You will not remove it under any circumstances.  The session
ends only when I remove it."  He wrapped the collar around
Glorfindel's neck, positioning the jewel at the hollow of Glorfindel's
throat, and fastening the buckle at the back of his neck.

Glorfindel listened as Erestor instructed him to move to what he
called 'Position One.'  This was similar to Position Zero, except that
Glorfindel's palms were now flat against the back of his neck with his
fingers laced together.  His held his elbows up, pointed out and
aligned with his shoulders.  He felt his chest pushed out and the
muscles in his back, buttocks, and thighs tense in the new posture.

Erestor nodded approvingly.  "This is the position you will adopt if
you are not told any other position.  Furthermore, this is how you
will always appear before me during a session: naked and collared,
your hair fastened up, and standing in Position One.  Do you
understand?"

"Yes, Sir," Glorfindel replied, surprised at how easy the respectful
title spilled from his lips given his current posture and nudity.

"Are you certain?  This is the one and only time that I will give
these initial instructions, so if you have any questions, ask them now
because you will not have the opportunity again."

Glorfindel paused, thinking seriously.  There was nothing difficult or
complicated in these rules, and certainly nothing more restrictive
than those in his training regiment when he first became a warrior. 
In fact, the memory of that experience gave him new resolve, and he
stood in Position One even straighter as he responded.  "I am certain,
Sir."

"Excellent," Erestor replied, and this time, the smile was evident on
his face.  "Now, approach the bed.  Stop two flagstones from the
edge."  He complied immediately, his hands never leaving their
position, as he lined the tips of his toes with the grout line of the
flagstone floor.  "Extend your arms toward the posters of the bed." 
Glorfindel unlaced his fingers and reached for the thick, tall wooden
columns of the bed, but he was too far away to actually grasp them.

He trained his eyes on a spot on the far wall, refusing to move his
gaze from it when Erestor came into his peripheral vision.  "Lean
forward, and remain with your feet flat upon the floor."  Glorfindel
balanced himself, feeling utterly exposed in such a position.  His
feet were shoulder-length apart to offer him some stability in the
posture, but this left his buttocks even more prominently displayed. 
He was pulled from his thoughts when he felt fabric being wrapped
around his left wrist.  He could not stop himself; his eyes jumped to
the side.  Erestor was tying something around his wrist.  Glorfindel
recognized it as the sleeve of his own undershirt.  Hoping silently
that Erestor hadn't noticed his change in focus, he watched his lover
tie the other sleeve to the bedpost.  Glorfindel gave an experimental
tug, and found that he was unable to shift or bend his arm.

His right hand was bound in the same way using his leggings. 
Restrained as he was, Glorfindel realized that he was helpless in the
face of whatever activity Erestor had planned for him.  He was bared
and vulnerable before his lover.  Glorfindel could sense when Erestor
had taken up a position behind him and jumped slightly when his gentle
hands began to stroke his extended arms and along his spine. 
Glorfindel trembled under the tender strokes, his arousal throbbing
with his heartbeat and his body relaxing slightly into the touch.

Suddenly, Erestor's open hand struck one cheek of his buttocks,
sending a sharp sting of pain radiating from the contact.  "That is
for looking without permission," he said softly, his voice firm in its
chastisement.  Glorfindel felt his face flush with shame, but his eyes
closed slightly and he fought not to moan when that same hand lovingly
squeezed and stroked the sensitive flesh that had just been hit.  "And
that is for being so beautiful," was the praise heatedly spoken
against the shell of his ear.

Erestor slapped the other side of his buttocks, causing Glorfindel to
rock forward slightly.  "And that is because I can."  Another
open-handed blow was given to the already stinging flesh and
Glorfindel wondered if he could truly do this.  One slap turned into
four, then into eight.  Glorfindel's steady breathing had quickly
become irregular gasps the longer Erestor tortured his backside.  His
position prevented him from flinching from the impact of Erestor's
hand and the sharp sting had quickly become a steady throb. 
Glorfindel began to wonder how it was Erestor's hand did not ache with
the steady, rhythmic punishment he rained down on Glorfindel's sore
buttocks.

The onslaught continued beyond Glorfindel's ability to keep count, his
harsh breaths becoming moans and then voiced cries of pain.  And then,
just as suddenly, Erestor stopped.  Glorfindel's ears rang in the
sudden silence.  A bead of cool sweat slid down his back, already
covered in a fine sheen of moisture.  His legs trembled from exertion
and trepidation.  Glorfindel involuntarily cringed when Erestor's hand
came to rest on his raw backside, gently stroking the burning skin.

Erestor finally spoke then, and Glorfindel thought he would sob with
the pride he felt at the praise his lover bestowed him.  "You are
doing so well," the Advisor crooned.  Erestor's touch disappeared and
Glorfindel hung his head, his muscles screaming at him for relief.  He
was also surprised his desire had not fled in the face of the physical
pain he had endured.  If anything else, his need for release was more
acute.  Erestor's hand did not return and Glorfindel used the time he
was offered to catch his breath and push aside the pain he felt.  He
heard movement at the far side of the room, but he kept his eyes
closed and head hung, not wishing to disobey Erestor again.

He shivered when Erestor's fingers unexpectedly danced over his chest,
his hand stroking from the collar at the base of his throat to his
navel.  The soft, silken material of Erestor's trousers was cool
against his enflamed backside, and he groaned to feel the hard shaft
of his lover's erection press into the cleft.  His own length was
coated with the clear, sticky fluid that had been steadily dripping
from the small slit at the head of his arousal.  Glorfindel moaned as
Erestor rubbed himself against his buttocks, the trouser material
sending delicious tendrils of pleasure right to his groin.  He slowly
relaxed into the gentleness Erestor offered, a sense of satisfaction
radiating in him that he was bringing Erestor such pleasure by simply
submitting to him.

A resounding thwack rang through the air and Glorfindel yelped. 
Erestor had hit him with some kind of implement; it was no longer his
hand he used.  He tightened his hold on the garments used to bind him
and clenched his jaw shut against letting any further cries escape his
lips.  Erestor struck again, only this time, he also reached around
Glorfindel's body and wrapped his fingers around Glorfindel's length. 
He could not help the hiss of pleasure this action elicited, he felt
himself attempt to thrust into the fist pleasuring him.  His position,
though, did not permit such action.

Erestor hit him once more and Glorfindel trembled in his conflicted
need.  With each blow, he was pushed forward into Erestor's tight,
slick hand.  His lover's breath ghosted over his ear, and Glorfindel
was surprised to hear no fatigue or shortness of breath in the voice
that spoke in a low, steady tone.  "Do you like this, Glorfindel?"

Glorfindel's eyes shot open and he turned his head to look at Erestor
with puzzlement in his eyes.  He was rewarded with a particularly hard
smack.  "Eyes forward," came the sharp command.  He returned his eyes
to the spot he had chosen when he had first been restrained.  Another
hit, another thrust into that hand, another clash of pain and
pleasure.  What was Erestor doing to him?

His lover's lips brushed against Glorfindel's cheek.  "Do you like
this?" he asked again, building a steady rhythm with whatever he was
using to strike him.  Glorfindel instinctively knew the torment would
not end until he either admitted he enjoyed what Erestor was doing to
him or used the safe word.  He was certain he would not be able to sit
on the morrow; he could feel the bruising of his backside already. 
But, to admit that he, the famed slayer of a Balrog, enjoyed being
beaten, that he could feel his release building within him with every
blow landed on his sore and abused buttocks...  He felt his face color
with humiliation as he saw himself in his mind's eyes.

Hair pinned sloppily, nude and bound to the bed he shared with his
tormentor, bent over and willingly accepting blow after blow, reveling
in the hand that worked his shaft, brought him closer and closer to
his pinnacle.  He was ashamed of his weakness in that moment, in the
easy mastery Erestor held over his body and its needs.  "Do you want
me to stop?"  Yes, he did.

Didn't he?  One word.  One word would stop everything.  Smack. 
Thrust.  Glorfindel shuddered with his desire, fighting within himself
to either give himself completely to his lover or end the play
forever.  "I can tell you like this, Glorfindel."  Erestor squeezed
his length briefly and then released him, cupping the tight sac
beneath his arousal.  "I want to hear you tell me you like it.  Tell
me, Glorfindel."  His lover's voice was so low, a purr in his ear, and
Glorfindel felt tears of frustration spring to his eyes.

When the tears finally fell, his buttocks were ablaze with pain.  He
tried to squirm and move away from each blow given to him.  "You can
say it, Glorfindel.  There is only you and me in this room."  Smack,
stroke, a ghost of a kiss to his cheek.  "I give you permission to
like it."  Erestor continued with his painful onslaught and Glorfindel
continued to fight his internal battle.  "Do you like it?"  Erestor's
tone had become more stern and demanding and Glorfindel felt himself
forming the word that would be the end of it.

"Yes!" he gasped, the flush of shame still on his cheek, the tears
still tracing down the red flesh.  He had admitted it.  Yes, he liked
it.  He liked how he could withstand each blow, how Erestor's pleasure
fed his own, he enjoyed pleasing his lover and, in turn, was pleased
himself.  Yes, by the Valar, he liked it!

Upon the admission, each strike Erestor made carried more force and
his hand moved in earnest upon his length.  "Come for me, Glorfindel,"
he said in hushed tones.  "Let go of it all and come for me."

And he did.  With a great cry, he spilled himself over Erestor's hand,
only vaguely registering the cessation of the beating.  He trembled
and sobbed within his bonds, resting his head against the pale, bare
shoulder offered to him.  Erestor stroked his cheek, murmuring words
of praise to the exhausted Elda.  Glorfindel hung limply from his
bonds, the rush of ecstasy still coursing through him.

Gentle fingers reached behind him, unclasping the mithril buckle and
removing the soft leather collar.  Glorfindel immediately noticed the
absence of the band, and though he wanted to look into Erestor's face,
he could not bring himself to open his eyes to do so.  His shame was
still there; his enjoyment in being dominated still reflected in his
eyes.  He could not face Erestor just yet.

His arm fell to his side when Erestor freed it, sore and slightly
numb.  He had to lean heavily upon his lover, having lost all strength
following his orgasm.  Erestor unbound his other arm and all but
carried Glorfindel into their bathing chamber.  A bath, the water
tepid and laced with some sort of herb Glorfindel could not place,
awaited them.  Erestor stripped himself of his trousers a bit
awkwardly, not releasing Glorfindel from his arms.  Glorfindel watched
Erestor enter the water, and then he pulled Glorfindel in with him,
holding him against his chest so his throbbing backside did not rest
on the bottom of the basin.

The lukewarm water soothed the sting of his buttocks, and whatever
Erestor had added to the pool slightly numbed the pain.  Erestor
brought his feet together, creating a hollow seat of sorts out of his
legs, which Glorfindel could sit on without additional discomfort and
his lover could attend to him.  Glorfindel closed his eyes when
Erestor unpinned his hair, sighing softly as his locks were combed out
before they were wetted and washed.

Glorfindel's whole body ached.  His muscles were stiff and sore, his
arms were tingling as feeling returned to them, and his head ached
from the strain and tears.  He felt as if he had been through not only
an emotional battle, but also one of the most intense physical battles
he had ever partaken of.  Glorfindel's mind was a jumble of
conflicting emotions and thoughts; he was not sure what exactly had
just transpired, and he was even less sure of what it meant for his
relationship with Erestor.  He moaned softly when Erestor massaged his
shoulders, neck and back while washing him with the soap oil.

The Elda heard Erestor clear his throat and he waited patiently for
his lover to say something.  "How do you feel, melethen?" was the
gentle question, the loving tone returning to Erestor's voice.

Glorfindel's eyes remained trained on his clasped hands floating just
beneath the cloudy water, his head bowed.  How *did* he feel?  He felt
sore, he felt drained, he felt accomplished.  He searched for the
shame and the guilt he'd felt only a few minutes before, and found
them seeping away with the aches and tension.  He enjoyed himself;
Erestor enjoyed himself.  Nothing seemed to have changed between them,
so what had been the harm?

"I feel... good," he said quietly.

Glorfindel felt Erestor rest his chin on his shoulder.  "It pleases me
to hear that, meleth."  A gentle kiss was placed on his neck and
Glorfindel sighed, a smile spreading on his lips.  "Melin chen,
Glorfindel."

"Melin chen, pen-dhínen."  They sat in silence, the water continuing
to cool about them.  When Erestor shifted beneath him, Glorfindel felt
the Councilor's still hard member pressing against him.  "Melethen?"
he asked.  "Why have you not had your pleasure?"

Erestor chuckled and Glorfindel trembled slightly as the tip of his
ear was nipped playfully.  "I have had my pleasure.  Seeing you,
writhing beneath my hand, moaning with every smack, and how
beautifully you reached your release...  Oh, I have most definitely
had my pleasure pen-vain."

Glorfindel's face was turned gently by Erestor's hand, and the Advisor
took his mouth in a deep, heated kiss.  When they broke the kiss, he
held Erestor's gaze.  His lover's face was flushed and there was a
sweet, content smile gracing his wet lips.  Erestor's eyes were what
Glorfindel focused on.  They were still dark as midnight, framed with
soot lashes, but there was an openness to them that had not existed
before.  This was who Erestor truly was.

"Come, melethen," Erestor said, moving Glorfindel from his lap.  "I am
sure you are more than ready to retire."

Erestor stepped from the tub, but Glorfindel still needed his lover's
assistance.  His muscles, though not as sore as when he had first
entered the bath, were still weak with fatigue and overexertion.  His
backside still blazed with pain and he hissed as he Erestor dried him. 
His lover caressed the bruised and raw flesh with his lips and tongue,
once again sending the contrasting sensation of painful pleasure.

He was led to the bed and Erestor turned down the coverlet.  "Lay on
your stomach," the Noldo murmured.  Glorfindel slowly complied,
exhaustion slowly forcing him toward reverie.  He flinched a little
when slick, cool fingers began to stroke the abused flesh.  "This will
soothe the skin, numb the pain.  You should be able to walk tomorrow,
but I would avoid sitting on a non-padded surface.  Do you have patrol
in the morning?"

Glorfindel moaned softly as the substance was smoothed into his
buttocks.  It was cooling and the massage he was receiving was
loosening the tension remaining in his backside and thighs.  "Nay.  I
have no pressing matters to attend tomorrow," he mumbled sleepily.

Erestor leaned over and planted a soft, chaste kiss on his cheek. 
Glorfindel felt himself slipping into dreams and only half-realized
when Erestor covered him with a light sheet and crawled into the bed
beside him.  "Sleep now, pen-vain," Erestor whispered near his ear.

Without thought, before reverie fully claimed him, Glorfindel uttered
two words.  "Yes, sir."

Elvish/English:
Melethen: My love
Meleth: Love
Melin chen: I love you
Pen-dhínen : Silent one
Pen-vain : Beautiful one

Title: Something Special, Something Sacred
Chapter: Chapter Four : A Kiss and a Smile
Beta: Alex

---

Imladris, Third Age 2032

Erestor walked into Elrond's office, a faint smile on his lips.  That
smile broadened when Elrond looked up from the stack of papers on the
desk.  He sat down gracefully, crossing his legs and folding his hands
in his lap.  "Maer aur, Hîren."

"Maer aur, Erestor," Elrond replied, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. 
"What have you done that brings you here so early... and with such an
expression upon your face?  And where is Glorfindel?  He has yet to
appear this morning."

He chuckled.  "Glorfindel has chosen to spend the day resting.  He
seems to have had a rough night."

Elrond raised an eyebrow expectantly and sipped his tea.

"He found out," he said simply.

"Found out?"  Elrond's gaze darkened in concern.  "How?"

Erestor waved his hand, dismissing the alarm he saw in his friend's
face.  "He overheard Haldir and Lindir two days past, in one of the
gardens.  He mistook their words about the activities I used to engage
in with them as abuse and promiscuity."

Elrond put his teacup down.  "Was he very angry?"

"He was more confused than angry.  But, I spoke with him at length
about that aspect of my life, and he has accepted it."  Erestor
grinned at Elrond.

Erestor watched his Lord's eyes cloud in confusion and then
realization dawned upon the ageless face.  "And he had a rough night
because...?"  Elrond leaned forward with wide-eyes.

"Because I bruised his backside with a hairbrush."

Elrond's mouth worked for a moment, but no sound would come forth. 
Finally, after taking another sip of his tea, he was able to get his
thoughts out.  "You didn't."

He looked at Elrond through veiled eyes, a self-satisfied smirk on his
lips.  "Well, at first I used my hand, but I felt he could handle a
hairbrush."

The Imladris Lord relaxed into his chair, chuckling.  "Hmm.  That
sounds awfully familiar, Erestor."

Erestor inclined his head.  "I did learn from the best."

"Was that all you did?  You simply smacked him around?"

"Nay!"  Erestor furrowed his brow.  "I started him the same way you
started me: naked, posed and collared."

"Where did you find a collar for him so soon, meldir?" Elrond asked in
astonishment.

Erestor's smile returned, a little sheepish this time.  "I had it made
for him years ago.  I just never knew if I was ever going to speak to
him about it.  I had almost given up on using it when he brought it up
that night."

"So... how did he do?"

"Extremely well, actually," Erestor replied, reaching across the desk
to pick up Elrond's teacup and take a delicate sip of the warm liquid. 
Elrond looked at him askance, but he ignored the Peredhel as he set
the cup back down.  "He did make eye contact a couple of times, but
otherwise I was impressed."

"A couple of times?  You did not brace him after the first
infraction?"

Erestor frowned.  He recalled his first night submitting to Elrond. 
He had been nervous, much the same way as Glorfindel had been.  He'd
been bound not unlike his lover had been, and he'd made the same
mistake; he turned and looked at Elrond.  Elrond barely paused, as
though he'd been expecting the slip.  His master had fitted a large
restraint around his neck that prevented him from turning his head. 
It was a heavy device, and Erestor had employed it on more than one
occasion himself since becoming the master.  "I did not.  It seemed...
unnecessary."

"That does not sound like you, Erestor.  I have never known you to be
lenient during a first training."

"He corrected himself quickly," Erestor replied defensively.  "So much
is new to him that I thought it best to allow him a small measure of
compassion."

"Be careful, melethron vrûn," Elrond said gently.  "I know that you
love Glorfindel very much, but it is not wise to allow such
disobedience to become ingrained."

"Do not fear, Hîren.  I have not forgotten what you taught me, both
beneath your lash and beside it.  What I offered him was but a sample
of my life before meeting him.  I do not know if he will choose to
continue in that manner.  Be assured, though, that if he does, I will
be certain to curb that curiosity of his."

Elrond nodded.  "I trust that you know what is best.  I would not have
allowed so submissive a partner to leave my service if I did not feel
that your potential to lead far surpassed your talent to serve."

"A decision for which my past partners would either praise you or
curse you, if only they knew 'twas you who made it," Erestor retorted
with a wry grin.  He stood, inclining his head slightly in a gesture
of respect.  "Unfortunately, my backside is not bruised, and so I must
to my duties.  Maer aur, Elrond."

"Maer aur," the Elf-lord replied before returning his attention, with
a heavy sigh, to an imposing stack of papers on his desk.

*****

Erestor opened the door, balancing the heavy tray in one hand and a
stack of papers in another.  He looked beyond the main room and into
the bedroom, where he could see Glorfindel still in the bed on his
stomach.  Erestor was sure his lover's backside was still quite
tender.  He smiled to himself as he made his way into the room; he was
happy Glorfindel had agreed to the session, now he just feared the
Elda's reaction.

His smile brightened when Glorfindel looked away from the book he was
reading.  "Good evening, melethen," he said, setting the tray down.

Glorfindel smiled and Erestor's heart warmed at the sight.  "Good
evening, Councilor."

"I brought you your evening meal.  I did not think you would feel like
coming to the main hall to eat."  Erestor waved at the tray and
fidgeted with his papers.  He felt slightly off balance; he didn't
know how to treat this situation.  Erestor had never been so unnerved
after a session as he did now.

He watched Glorfindel struggle slightly to sit up, his motions slow
and deliberate, ignoring the stab of guilt he felt when his lover
winced with pain.  Glorfindel motioned to the papers.  "You brought
work with you?"

Erestor sat on the edge of the bed beside Glorfindel and looked at the
stack of correspondence he held.  "I was behind this day in my work. 
It seems I was... distracted and could not pay enough attention to
what I was doing.  I brought home some of it in order not to be so far
behind in the morning."

His lover nodded and began to pick at the plates of food he had
brought.  Erestor watched Glorfindel eat the cheeses and bread,
leaving the meats and fruits behind.  "Are you not hungry, meleth? 
You usually eat far more than that in one sitting."

"I have little appetite, Erestor," Glorfindel said softly, not looking
at the dark-haired Advisor.

"Glorfindel?  Will you not look at me?"  Erestor's heart squeezed
within his breast.  When the Elda still did not raise his eyes,
Erestor sighed softly.  "I had not wished for you to know that."  He
stared at his hands.  "I did not think you would submit, and if you
did, I was certain I would not find you in our chambers the following
morning.  I was always afraid to share myself with you."  Erestor knew
tears would come if he let them, but he swallowed them.  "We never
have to do that again, pen-vain."

He was so engrossed in his hands that he jumped when Glorfindel's hand
cupped his cheek.  Erestor looked into bottomless sky-blue eyes and
offer a watery smile.  "Melin chen, Glorfindel."

"I do not pretend to understand everything, melethen.  But, I wish
that I did."  Erestor listened to the gentle, even tones of his
lover's voice.  "It was not entirely unpleasant," Glorfindel offered
after a pause.

Erestor thought for a moment before he replied.  "You do know how much
I love you, and that I would be perfectly content for the rest of
eternity with you should we not continue these games?"

Glorfindel's face clouded slightly.  "How could you not do this?  You
cannot tell me that this is not who you are.  I could see it in your
eyes, the lack of uncertainty, the steadiness and confidence.  So many
years you went without this form of release, how could you go back to
what we had?"

"I would do it for you, rawen.  With or without the play, I love you
and am content to simply be your lover.  Always." (my lion)

"Aye, melethen, I know.  And that is why I know I can trust you to see
me through."

Erestor scanned his lover's face for any sign of indecision.  Finding
none, his eyes darkened and his lips twisted into a wry grin.  "Then
am I to understand that you would not object to further training
sessions?"

"I would not object," Glorfindel said simply.

"Then there is something that I need to show you."  Erestor stood up
from the bed and walked to the large tapestry that hung on the side
wall.  It was the same tapestry that he'd come out from behind the
previous evening.  He'd hung it there just before Glorfindel moved
into his room.  He'd told himself at the time that it was in order to
avoid the inevitable questions, but ten years of hindsight revealed
the true reason to be nothing more than fear and a little shame.

"I have cared deeply for all my partners throughout the centuries," he
explained, "but I have only been in love with one other in all that
time.  That relationship began much as ours did, with no mention of my
... proclivities.  At that time, this tapestry did not hang here." 
Erestor gathered the heavy fabric onto the crook of his arm and pushed
it aside, revealing a wooden door leading to an adjacent chamber.

"I ordinarily kept this room locked when it was not in use, but as
fate would have it, I was cleaning in there when I was called away on
an errand from Elrond.  In my haste, I left the door unlocked.  My
lover was always the curious sort, and could not resist the
opportunity to peek inside."

Glorfindel looked pensive.  "And what did your lover see?  What is in
this room, Erestor?"

"Come and see," he replied hoarsely.  His throat was suddenly dry, and
he felt his legs trembling as Glorfindel crossed the room and stood
beside him.  Erestor produced a key from his robes and unlocked the
door, opening it before another's eyes for the first time in over a
decade.

Glorfindel lifted a candle from the nearby sconce and held it before
him as he looked inside.  Erestor held his breath -- he could only
imagine what was going through the golden warrior's mind at this
moment.  When Glorfindel stepped fully into the room, Erestor
followed, taking a candle of his own and draping the tapestry over the
now-empty holder.  He lit the two oil lamps just inside the door and
adjusted the light to a more comfortable level.  Glorfindel set his
candle down and gaped at the contents of the room.

Erestor followed his lover's eyes around the perimeter.  Along the
wall to the right were two large wooden structures.  The first was
made from an old round dining table.  The legs closest to the wall had
been shortened somewhat, so that the table sloped downward.  The
second structure consisted of two wide boards, each over two meters
long, nailed together in a tall, narrow 'X' and inclined backward
slightly.  Both were fitted with iron rings for the attachment of
restraints.  Between them hung a chain suspended from the ceiling by
means of a pulley system.  The chain, too, ended in an iron ring.

The back wall also consisted of various methods of restraint: in this
case, shackles of several designs attached, dungeon-style, to the
wall.  The left wall was reserved for storage.  Whips, riding crops,
and floggers of every description were hung on this wall, grouped
together by style and length.  A large armoire was set into the corner
and contained the remainder of Erestor's toys and implements.  The
same compulsion of neatness that kept his office spotless was also
employed within the drawers of that armoire; all the clamps,
blindfolds, gags, and phalluses were painstakingly organized and
regularly cleaned.

"This is my playroom."  Erestor's voice sounded small, even in the
enclosed space.  "When my lover saw this, he immediately jumped to an
indecorous conclusion, confronted me about it, and would not be swayed
by my attempts at explanation.  Things between us never recovered, and
I decided that all of this," he gestured around the room, "was not
something that could be shared with a lover."

Erestor moved behind Glorfindel and snaked an arm around his waist. 
"I want you to know that I never wanted to deceive you.  This is a
part of who I am, but it is not *all* of who I am.  I would choose you
over this if it came to that.  Every time."

Glorfindel leaned his weight back against Erestor, his eyes fixed on
something Erestor could not determine.  After a moment's pause, the
Elda pushed away from him and walked to the armoire.  Hanging from a
small hook on the side was the collar Erestor had fitted on him the
previous night.  While Erestor watched, dumbfounded, Glorfindel
shrugged off his dressing gown, quickly twisted and tied his hair,
took the collar from the hook, and fastened it around his neck.  He
turned, gloriously naked, and returned to stand before Erestor. 
Slowly, Glorfindel raised his hands behind his head and laced his
fingers, staring straight ahead without looking at the stunned Noldo.

A wave of relief crashed over Erestor, and he rushed forward with the
swell of it, grabbing Glorfindel around the waist and kissing him
roughly.  Not until the fair-haired Elf began to yield to the kiss and
lean against him did Erestor fully shift into his more dominant
persona.  He pulled back from the kiss suddenly, slapping Glorfindel
hard across the backside.  The Elda gasped and instantly straightened
his posture, much to Erestor's delight.

"Do not move," he ordered roughly.  "And you are to restrain your
release until I say otherwise."

"Yes, sir," Glorfindel responded, a trace of a smile ghosting across
his lips.

Erestor slid his hands down Glorfindel's chest, caressing the tightly
muscled form.  When he reached his lover's firm shaft, he wrapped his
fingers around the flesh and began to stroke gently.  He could feel
Glorfindel's body straining to remain motionless, but the blond did
not move.  Erestor stroked faster, pausing occasionally to brush his
thumb across the sensitive head, and still Glorfindel did not shift.

"Very good," he said approvingly.  He meant it, too.  Erestor did not
give idle praise, as it was as detrimental as meaningless punishments. 
Glorfindel's cock twitched in his hand, but that was the only
response.  Also very good, he deemed.

Erestor took Glorfindel's face in his hands, looking into the deep
blue eyes.  Slowly and deliberately, he leaned forward and slid his
tongue across Glorfindel's upper lip.  Glorfindel continued to be
deliciously unresponsive, so Erestor drew the Elda's bottom lip into
his mouth and sucked and nipped playfully at the tender skin. His
hands slid down Glorfindel's chest, capturing each nipple between a
finger and thumb, pinching slightly.  Erestor kept that grip even as
he lowered himself to his knees in front of Glorfindel.

Glorfindel's throbbing member hovered inches from his face.  The tip
glistened with moisture.  Erestor looked up at Glorfindel, as he had
from this position countless times in the past.  This night, though,
he saw not the loving pools of azure looking down at him, but instead
the concentrated, forward-looking stare of the dutiful submissive. 
The sight took his breath away, and there was nothing for it but to
plunge his warm mouth around Glorfindel's length.

Glorfindel gasped reflexively, but Erestor allowed it.  He hadn't,
after all, told Glorfindel not to make a sound.  That training would
come later.  Erestor drew more of the taut shaft into his mouth,
running his tongue along the skin.  He thrust his mouth again and
again down his lover's firmness.  Glorfindel's breath came in
shuddering sighs, and Erestor could feel the tension in the Elda's
body as he struggled to maintain control.  Erestor did not relent yet,
though, but continued to assault Glorfindel's cock with his mouth. 
When at last Glorfindel's legs began to tremble, his gasps became
whimpers through clenched teeth, and his entire body seemed as tight
as a bowstring, Erestor released the tortured flesh, standing
gracefully.

He waited until Glorfindel had steadied himself and the worst of the
shaking passed.  Glorfindel's body was slick with sweat from his
exertions, and his chest heaved with every gulp of air he took.  Some
of his hair had escaped the loose knot and hung limply around his
face.  Erestor had always found the sight to be intoxicating on his
previous partners.  On Glorfindel, the vision was positively
paralyzing.

"Move to the back wall," he heard himself saying as he emerged from
the trance of Glorfindel's beauty.  Glorfindel kept his hands behind
his neck as he turned and began to walk, but Erestor called out for
him to stop.  "Hands by your side," he ordered.  "Fingers curled,
thumbs pointing to the floor."

Glorfindel hastily complied.  He did not look back at Erestor, but the
Noldo could imagine the expression of confusion that must have been on
Glorfindel's face at that moment.  He had just ordered his lover, the
Seneschal of Imladris, to stand, naked and collared, at military
attention.

"You recognize this, I am certain," Erestor explained casually. 
"Here, though, it is Position Two.  Unless otherwise instructed, this
is the position you will use when walking.  Now, continue to the back
wall.  A bar is fastened in the corner to your left, and a line is
marked on the floor.  Stand on the line and grasp the bar with both
hands."

"Yes, sir," Glorfindel replied without turning.  He marched, military
fashion, to the wall, turned smartly to the left, and strode to the
indicated line.  The mark was half a meter from the wall, and the bar
was at about shoulder height, so Glorfindel had to lean over and down
in order to comply with Erestor's orders.

That, of course, was the point, thought Erestor wryly.  He did not
watch Glorfindel get into position; there was no need.  Instead, he
walked to the equipment wall and selected a basic flogger from the
wide selection.  The strips of black leather were of a medium width
and reasonably softened to give just the right balance of pressure and
sting.  He gave a couple of experimental swings and judged the flogger
to be acceptable.  Finally, he opened the armoire and selected a phial
of oil, slipping it into the pocket of his robes before moving behind
Glorfindel.

He laid the tails of the flogger across Glorfindel's back, sliding the
leather straps sensually across the bare skin.  Erestor saw the Elda's
muscles tense at the unexpected sensation, and continued to gently
tease the leather across his back until he began to relax.  When
Glorfindel was more comfortable with the touch of the flogger, Erestor
flicked his wrist, snapping the tails across Glorfindel's backside. 
The contact was fleeting and more for the sound than for the sting. 
Nonetheless, Glorfindel flinched at the blow, but, to his credit, did
not turn or move away.

Erestor placed a few more strikes across the fleshy part of
Glorfindel's backside, varying the intensity until he was able to
gauge his lover's tolerance.  Then, settling into a swordsman's ready
stance, Erestor swung the flogger in broad diagonal strokes, covering
Glorfindel's back and buttocks with the stinging tails.  The swipes
were not enough to raise welts, or even leave much of a mark beyond a
slight pinkness, but within a few minutes, Glorfindel's knuckles had
turned white from the strain with which he was gripping the iron rod.

"Are you well, pen-dithen?" Erestor asked gently, pausing in his work
as he became aware of the sheen of sweat covering Glorfindel's body
and the tension in his lover's arms and legs. (little one)

Glorfindel was panting as he replied, "Yes, sir."

"Very good."  Erestor stepped closer to Glorfindel, pressing himself
fully against the Elda's naked form.  He draped his arms over
Glorfindel's shoulders, caressing the blond's chest with his free
hand.

"Open your mouth," he purred close to Glorfindel's ear.  When
Glorfindel did as he was told, Erestor held the handle of the flogger
in both hands in front of Glorfindel's mouth, and slid the leather
between his teeth.  "Bite down, hold that there, and make no sound."

Erestor stepped back when the flogger was firmly held in his lover's
mouth.  The mass of color on Glorfindel's back was fading, leaving
behind a criss-crossing pattern of only the firmest strikes.  Again,
Erestor was struck dumb at the beauty of the situation.  He'd dreamed
of being able to share himself completely with this Elf that he'd
given his heart to, and now that chance was here.  His arousal
strained against his leggings; he had to think only a moment before
removing the oil from his pocket and divesting himself of the heavy
robes.

He poured a few drops of the oil onto his fingers and rubbed the slick
digits against the exposed opening to Glorfindel's rear passage. 
Glorfindel forgot himself and groaned through his clenched teeth at
the unexpected contact.  Erestor aimed for a particularly flushed
patch on Glorfindel's backside and slapped it with his hand. 
Glorfindel whimpered, but made no further sound.

"Another sound," Erestor warned, "and it's back to the lash." 
Glorfindel's head sagged slightly in resignation, and Erestor returned
his fingers to the tight entrance he was caressing a moment before. 
He added a little more oil, and eased two fingers into the passage,
coating the entire area with the slippery liquid.  Glorfindel's body
responded to the touch, but he made no sound, though the struggle to
remain silent was evident to Erestor.

When Glorfindel was properly prepared, Erestor untied his leggings and
slid them to the floor, freeing his throbbing member at last. 
Glorfindel was but the third lover he had dominated, and the only one
he felt truly in love with.  The significance of the moment was not
lost on the dark-haired Elf, but his urgent need compelled him not to
dwell for long.  He poured the remainder of the small phial of oil
into his palm and spread the lubricant along his rigid arousal as he
knelt to place the empty glass container on the pool of his robes.

He stood and positioned himself directly behind Glorfindel.  He
directed his lover to bend slightly at the knees, as Glorfindel was
slightly taller than he.  Satisfied with the angle, Erestor used one
hand to guide himself into the waiting entrance.  Glorfindel's jaw
tensed so much from trying to remain silent that Erestor could see the
strain as far back as the Elda's neck and shoulder muscles.  Once
buried completely into his golden beauty, Erestor reached out and took
the sides of the flogger handle with both hands and braced against it
as he thrust his hips forward and back.

Glorfindel's breath came in quick, labored gasps.  Erestor felt the
passage around him contracting with the effort Glorfindel was
expending.  His release built quickly in the corner of his
consciousness, and he knew he could not hold it back much longer.  He
moved his right hand, still slick with the remnants of the oil, and
took Glorfindel's cock in his hand, stroking quickly.

"Open your mouth," Erestor grunted between thrusts.  "Let me hear you
now."  He held the flogger loosely in his hand when Glorfindel
released it with an impassioned cry.  Moans and cries of "Oh, Sir!"
spilled generously forth from the blond Elf's lips now that they were
no longer forbidden.  Erestor's body trembled at the sounds, and his
body could no longer withstand the pressure.  He exploded into
Glorfindel with a low groan, feeling his essence pulse into his lover.

Glorfindel shuddered, tightening around Erestor's arousal and sending
another wave of pleasure through him.  He could feel Glorfindel's
member twitching in his hand and heard the Elda's breathing become
ragged.  Glorfindel threw his head back, eyes and teeth clenched as he
fought his body's need.  Erestor waited until he felt Glorfindel could
stand no more and would surely be forced to disobey against his will.

"Si, pen-dithen," he whispered, pressing his lips against Glorfindel's
ear. (now, little one)  With a gasp and a sigh, Glorfindel visibly
relaxed his control and allowed his release to overtake him.  Erestor
felt Glorfindel's erection pulse as it spilled the thick fluids over
his fingers and onto the floor.  Still holding the flogger, Erestor
reached behind Glorfindel's neck with his left hand and fumbled with
the buckle to the collar, finally unfastening the hasp.  He pulled up
his leggings, Glorfindel's release staining the fabric where he
touched, and returned both collar and flogger to their proper places
before addressing Glorfindel again.

"Come, melethen, let us bathe ere we dine.  I trust your appetite has
been restored?"

Glorfindel turned and looked at Erestor.  Tear tracks were evident on
his cheeks, but he grinned widely.  "It has indeed, seron vell.  But I
agree; the warmth of a bath is definitely in order."  (beloved) He
walked to Erestor, leaned in and kissed him.  "Melin chen, Erestor,"
he said before continuing to the bathing chamber. (I love you)

"Melin chen, Glorfindel," Erestor said softly.  He gathered his robe
from the floor and doused the lamps before following his lover.  As he
closed the door to the playroom, he hesitated, automatically searching
for the keys in his robe.  He paused for a moment, smiled slightly,
and left the room unlocked.

TBC...

Title: Something Special, Something Sacred
Chapter: Chapter Five : Hunger For Me

---

Imladris, Third Age 2032

"Position Eleven."

Glorfindel gracefully fell to his knees, spreading his thighs wide and
resting back on his heels.  His hands remained laced at the back of
his neck, his chest pushed forward and his erection prominently
displayed, glistening with its need.

Over two months had flown by for Glorfindel since starting this new
aspect of their intimate lives.  Two months of many new experiences,
but Erestor had continued to assure him there was so much more to
learn.  He had been diligent in his studies, throwing himself into the
lessons Erestor gave him as he had in his warrior training Ages ago.

His lover came to stand before him, wearing only his black trousers. 
This had become Erestor's standard dress for these sessions. 
Glorfindel kept his eyes trained on the floor, his head lowered in
respect.  His eyes closed when the gentle touch of Erestor's hand on
his head, and he sighed quietly.  Erestor had awoken in him a need and
a burning desire to please that he had never known existed within him.

He was gripped harshly by his hair, Erestor's hand knotting into the
carefully pinned locks.  The Noldo's other hand slipped inside his
trousers in a way that Glorfindel was accustomed to seeing.  A moment
later, Erestor's firm arousal was pulled from the folds of thick
fabric and thrust before his face.  The Elda immediately opened his
mouth to take in his lover's shaft, relaxing his jaw and throat as the
dark Elf set a steady thrusting rhythm.

Glorfindel lost himself in the act of pleasuring his lover.  The taste
of Erestor filled his senses; his eyes glazed over and he swallowed
when the Noldo slowly slid his ample length into the tight, welcoming
warmth of Glorfindel's throat.  The hand in his hair tightened,
forcing his head further back and opening his throat for further
invasion.  Glorfindel knew Erestor was watching him, knew that the
dark, bottomless eyes were gauging how long he could remain buried to
the hilt in the blond's mouth before it became necessary for
Glorfindel to breathe.

After a few long moments, Glorfindel's throat began to feel swollen
and far too full, his lungs hurt from holding his breath.  He still
did not raise his eyes, though, knowing if he did there would be some
new form of punishment to be doled out.  The worst punishment, in
Glorfindel's mind, was the look of disappointment in Erestor's eyes
when he failed at a task.  His heart burned with the need to please
the dark beauty.  Glorfindel pushed aside the urge to push or pull
away from Erestor, ignored the pressure building in his chest.

Erestor withdrew himself, giving Glorfindel a moment to exhale and
inhale once more before resuming his steady thrusts.  The cock that
laid claim to his mouth, that caused his jaw to ache, swelled and
became harder, signaling the Noldo's impending release.  Glorfindel
readied himself to swallow his lover's essence, but Erestor withdrew
completely and chuckled.

"I am not ready, pen-vara, though it is awfully tempting."

Glorfindel shuddered at the painful pleasure Erestor's thumb caused as
it caressed his swollen, bruised bottom lip.  "No, the cross, tonight,
I think," Erestor continued.  The Elda's eyes briefly fell on the
large device in the corner of the playroom -- disconcertingly called
the Fëanorian Cross -- before dropping back to the floor.  Glorfindel
never learned if Fëanor actually created the Cross or indeed ever
owned one, but that was the name given to the wooden contraption that
resembled nothing so much as a huge Westron 'X'.

He stood gracefully, instinctively assuming Position Two by putting
his hands by his side.  He turned on his heel, and marched to the
Cross.  When he reached his destination, the Elda turned again,
standing just in front of and beside the device, his back to the
Cross.  His hands moved to clasp the back of his neck, just above the
collar.  He waited there in Position One while his eyes tracked
Erestor's motion to the equipment closet.

Erestor's elaborate system of organization meant that the Noldo did
not have to search long for what he wanted.  Glorfindel quickly
averted his eyes, focusing on a point between his feet, when Erestor
turned from the wardrobe, carrying something in his hands.  Cool
fingers -- always cool, Glorfindel thought -- touched one of his
nipples, teasing it expertly into a tight, painful peak of longing. 
Through blurred vision, Glorfindel watched Erestor fasten a small clip
to the sensitive flesh.  He did not make a sound, willing his
breathing to remain even as Erestor adjusted the tension of the clamp. 
Erestor gave the same treatment to Glorfindel's other nipple,
adjusting the clamp until it was almost purely painful.  Then the
Noldo reached into his trouser pocket and held up two teardrop shaped
items.

Weights were added to the clamps, pulling at his pinched, tender skin. 
Glorfindel winced slightly, groaning as the second weight was
attached.  Erestor's bottomless eyes regarded him coolly.  "Turn
around and move to Position Four."

Glorfindel turned to face the Cross and moved until his stomach
touched the place where the 'X' met.  He stretched his arms gracefully
along the upper portion and shifted his stance so that his ankles were
even with the lower half.  Leather restraints were fastened about his
extremities, binding him to the device.  His chest and groin were free
from any friction, which he saw as both a blessing and curse. 
Glorfindel's painfully pinched nipples were spared further
stimulation, but his groin was also free of any friction.

The room was still; Glorfindel did not know if Erestor stood right
behind him or if the Councilor had left the room.  It wasn't until he
felt the kiss of the flogger against his back that he could say for
certain.  He closed his eyes against the pain, resisting the urge to
tense.  A second strike caught him across the thighs, too quickly. 
Glorfindel realized with a start that Erestor was holding *two*
floggers.  The Noldo paused briefly, as if to give him a moment to
absorb this, then moved with no further preamble into a flurry of
blows from both hands.

As always, Erestor displayed masterful control with the implements. 
Glorfindel felt his skin warming and tingling under the barrage, but
not breaking or even bruising.  The firmest strikes fell across the
fleshiest parts of his buttocks and thighs, leaving lines of stinging
pain that faded just slowly enough for them to be savored.    And
every contact shook the weights attached to his nipples, until they
ached more from arousal than from the pressure.

The pattern of the floggers became a steady rhythm, a percussive tune
being played with Glorfindel as the instrument.  The Elda let his head
sag, allowing the rhythm to wash over him.  His entire body thrummed
with the sound; even his grunts and gasps fell into time with the
cadence.  Abruptly, the pace doubled, and Glorfindel threw his head
back at the amplified sensations, his arousal twitching and weeping
uncontrollably.

It had not been so very long ago that Glorfindel would have been
appalled at the notion of being strapped down to *anything* and
willingly allowing his dear lover to inflict varying levels of pain,
even when balanced with equal levels of pleasure.  Now he did not know
how he had survived so long without that very thing.  The pain was
still, well, painful; it merely ceased to be most important thing in
the same way that a musician's instrument is not as important as the
song.  In times like these, Glorfindel's mind began to drift, almost
separate from his body.  He was still aware of everything around him,
and would certainly notice should Erestor strike him too firmly and
accidentally harm him.

The whip suddenly fell silent, and all Glorfindel could hear was the
frantic beating of his own heart.  Again he began to wonder if Erestor
had left the room, but he did not look; he could not bear to find
himself looking into disappointed eyes.  He almost flinched when he
felt cool hands caress the welts that the flogger had created.  The
thought came to him again that this was what he was living for when he
was in this room.  To please Erestor was his only purpose, his only
duty.  Outside the playroom, in the "real world", there were
responsibilities and necessities and patrols and reports.  But here,
there was only Erestor.

Glorfindel caught a glimpse of Erestor from the corner of his eye as
the dark-haired Elf stood at the side of the Cross.  "Out of
necessity, I have made a few modifications to the initial design," the
Noldo explained.  "You see, there was not enough space in this room
for me to include a table.  So I had to improvise."  As he spoke,
Erestor slid his hand behind the Cross, at the middle where the two
pieces intersected.  He removed something that Glorfindel could not
identify, and his body suddenly pitched forward as the device tipped
from vertical to horizontal.

Erestor replaced the small metal piece he'd withdrawn, and the motion
stopped.  The weights attached to Glorfindel's nipples dangled freely,
causing the Elda to groan at the extra pressure this caused.  His
arousal intensified from the increased stimulation.  For another
agonizingly long moment, there was nothing.  The seconds passed, until
Glorfindel was certain that *this* time, Erestor really had left the
room.  He strained to hear any sign of movement behind him, but the
room was completely quiet.

He had focused on his hearing so much that when a thin, cool object
was brushed across his sore buttocks, Glorfindel gasped in shock and
tried to recoil as best he could.  Erestor's deep chuckle behind him
was enough to calm the Elda, though, and Glorfindel was able to relax. 
As long as Erestor was here, after all, the blond knew that he was
safe.

Erestor was dragging the object across his rear; it felt like a wooden
switch, but thicker and more uniform.  The urge to turn his head and
peer behind him was almost unbearable.  The Noldo must have sensed it,
because he chose that moment to explain, "This is called a cane,
pen-vara.  Ordinarily, I would begin with very tender taps to soften
the skin, and only gradually work up to firmer strikes.  However, I
think we have taken care of that adequately."

Even with that much warning and time to brace, Glorfindel was still
surprised by the first strike.  The blow wasn't especially hard and
the sting faded almost instantly, but for that moment, the feeling was
something like a line of fire being etched across his backside.  It
was different than any other time he had been struck, more acute.  He
craved the next impact and closed his eyes, ready to savor the burning
sting, which Erestor willingly gave.

Glorfindel's breathing was even and slow, his body pliant.  He knew
that he could withstand any abuse Erestor could give him so long as he
remained calm.  Each strike, placed in random areas on his buttocks
and upper thighs, became progressively harder.  Sharp, dissipating
stings became constant throbs and Glorfindel lost his hold on that
calm.  Tears came to his eyes, his thighs tensing for each blow, and
he panted with harsh, short breaths.

And still Erestor continued.

Tears flowed freely and he sobbed, flinching from each anticipated
strike and he knew he would be unable to sit the next day.  He tensed,
ready for another blow, but it did not come.  Gentle hands, caressing
his untouched back, soothed his hurts.  "Glorfindel," came the cool,
dulcet tones of his lover's voice, cutting through the haze of pain
and humiliation.  "Do you want me to stop?" he asked, shocking
Glorfindel as Erestor stepped from the dominant role he always assumed
in this room.  He had offered to end the session without the use of
the safe word, and the Elda felt mildly hurt.

"No," he said in a hoarse, thick voice.

"Then you must take deep breaths.  I will not harm you, but if you do
not calm yourself, that is what will happen.  If you want to continue,
then you must relax."  More tender strokes to his skin and Glorfindel
felt his face aflame with shame.  Erestor did not have the confidence
in him that he could weather the session.

"Continue," the Elda ground out.  He closed his eyes again and
centered himself, no longer focusing on the blazing heat of his
backside or the near-painful ache of the weights hanging from his
chest.  Glorfindel focused instead on the steady beat of his heart,
the constant pulse of desire in his loins.  Erestor had not permitted
him release for several days and his body was eager for completion. 
He turned all his attentions inward on the distant shore of orgasm,
and he barely registered when the cane connected with his flesh again.

Glorfindel found that space in himself where the pain was but
background noise to the rising tide of release.  He was soon rising to
meet the cane, his breathing ragged and soft mewls of needful pleasure
escaped his lips.  With each rise and fall of his buttocks, the
weights would swing and he would feel a pull in his groin, another
push toward that precipice.  Strikes were planted on his lower portion
of his buttocks, to either side of the crevice, and he felt the
vibrations course through him, into his length.  Glorfindel opened his
eyes, his moaning becoming loud cries and he continued to rise to meet
those carefully placed blows.

Faster they came, the pressure ever the same; Erestor did not increase
the strength of his strikes.  Glorfindel felt the tightening in his
belly and let out a loud cry of shock as he spilled his seed onto the
cold stone floor, shuddering in the wake of an intense orgasm.  His
breathing had slowed before he realized Erestor had stopped the
caning.

"I have only witnessed such a release once in my long years," Erestor
said in a breathless voice, almost in awe.  "You are special,
pen-vara."

Glorfindel felt pride blossom in his breast.  He had pleased Erestor,
had done something the Councilor had not thought he could do.  He was
special.  His eyes slowly closed as he was overtaken by the inevitable
physical and emotional exhaustion that followed on the heels of such a
session.  He was pulled out of his blissful moment of reverie when the
lower portion of the Cross folded under and he found his feet on the
floor once more, but his upper body still bent.  Glorfindel knew what
was to come and his spent member twitched with anticipation.

Slick, cool fingers entered him quickly, smearing the salve deep, but
without much more preparation.  As soon as the fingers left his body,
Erestor's thick length pierced him in one fluid thrust.  Glorfindel
arched as much as his bonds and position would allow, a mew of pained
pleasure echoing in the room.  Erestor did not permit him a moment to
grow accustomed to the intrusion, but set a hard, rough rhythm.  He
was rocked against the wooden frame; cries were wrung from his lips
when Erestor dragged his nails along the raw, swollen skin of his
buttocks.

Deep strokes, the sound of skin slapping skin mingling with the Elda's
cries and moans.  Erestor rode him with an abandon Glorfindel had
never seen and before the Councilor could find his own release in the
tight velvet heat of Glorfindel's body, he withdrew and soon the
warmth of Erestor's essence coated his throbbing buttocks.  Erestor's
hands rubbed the milky fluid into his stinging flesh, pinching and
massaging the sore muscles.

Glorfindel heard Erestor move behind him and he whimpered softly.  He
ached all over and knew he would not be able to perform his duties in
the morning.  Erestor stood beside the Cross and removed the pin
again, righting the device slowly, before replacing the pin.  Deft
fingers unbuckled the collar, removing the damp leather from his
throat.  Glorfindel hung limply from his restraints, and waited for
Erestor to free him.

The clamps were removed and Glorfindel could not help the low groan of
pain as blood rushed to his bruised nipples.  Erestor soothed the nubs
with his tongue, gently sucking and teasing them until Glorfindel
purred tiredly.

In silence Erestor unbound him, allowing the tall Elda to lean on him
as they exited the playroom.  Glorfindel moved stiffly, his muscles
protesting until Erestor eased him, belly down, to the bed. 
Glorfindel rested his tear-stained face against the cool linen of his
pillow, gasping slightly when a cool rag was laid over his smarting
backside.  Erestor released Glorfindel's hair, brushing the golden
locks until they shined in the candlelight.  The Noldo removed the
warmed rag and Glorfindel let out a long sigh as Erestor soothed his
body with the thick menthol salve.

Within moments he was teetering on the brink of oblivion, his lover's
gentle hands soothing and relaxing him with skill.  Before he
succumbed to reverie, though, he turned his dark blue eyes to the
bottomless wells of Erestor's.  "Melin chen, Erestor," he said
raggedly.

"Melin chen, Glorfindel.  Rest.  We are done for tonight."  Erestor
continued to caress the burning skin, adding more salve, and singing
softly to his lover as he fell into a deep sleep.

TBC...

Title: Something Special, Something Sacred
Chapter: Chapter Six : Eyes of a Child

---

Imladris, Third Age 2032

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

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

~~~~~~~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~~~~~~~

Three more weeks.

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

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

*****

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

Which meant that the border was currently unguarded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Three more weeks.

TBC...

Title: Something Special, Something Sacred
Chapter: Chapter Seven : The Ones Who Have Lied
AN: A special thank you must go to my beta, Alex.  She has been a
wonderful help the last two chapters when I have written myself into a
corner.  *smiles*  Thank you.

---

Lórien, Third Age 2032

Erestor checked his packs a final time and sighed heavily.  A month
had passed, leaving him aching for his lover.  Though he had relieved
his need almost daily, he still longed to feel Glorfindel pliant
beneath him, begging him for the kiss of the cane.  To see the
glorious Elda hard, ready and marked by *his* hand was enough to undo
Erestor...

A knock at his door drew him from his reverie.  Erestor opened the
door and looked into the silver eyes of the Lord of Lórien.  "My Lord
Celeborn," he said, bowing slightly.  "To what do I owe this honor?"

"Erestor.  Would you please join me in my study?" Celeborn asked, his
back straight and his face a mask of indifference.

"Of course, my Lord," Erestor said, stepping into the hallway.  "What
is it you need of me?" he asked as he followed Celeborn's quick steps. 
The Elf-lord did not reply and Erestor felt a slight twinge of unease,
which escalated into panic when they bypassed Celeborn's study.

He knew what lay beyond the study.

"Celeborn," he said, stopping several feet behind the Elf-lord who had
stopped before a non-descript door.  Silver eyes met ink-black ones. 
"I cannot go in there with you."

The Lorien Lord raised an eyebrow.  "And why not?" he asked as he
crossed his arms over his chest.

Erestor's smile was cold and didn't reach his eyes.  "I belong to
Glorfindel," he said simply.

"The great Master Erestor finally belongs to someone?" Celeborn said
with a laugh.  "No, he does not own you.  You and I both know he does
not give you what I once did."

"Perhaps not," Erestor said.  "But, he does give me what you never
would."

Celeborn looked surprised for a moment before he regained his
composure.  "He submits," he whispered.

"Aye.  He does."

The Sinda stood a bit straighter.  "I do not ask you to submit to me
this night.  I ask for your presence in this room with another to
dominate."

Erestor knew this game.  He had been the victim of it for all three of
his masters.  "Very well.  I will accompany you."

"Good."  Celeborn smiled and opened the door, leading Erestor into the
dimly lit playroom.

A true smile appeared on Erestor's lips, causing his eyes to twinkle
with anticipation.  "Oh, my, Celeborn.  What is this you have?"

Strapped to a table face down, with glowing red buttocks, was Haldir
of Lórien.  The Elf was still panting, and Erestor licked his lips as
he took in the familiar hard shaft dripping with unspent desire. 
Erestor slowly circled the table, slowly unbuttoning his robe. 
"Haldir... had I known how desperate you were for the touch of the
flail, I would never have let you go," he teased, allowing the heavy
fabric to fall from his shoulders.  Erestor stood before Haldir's
prone form in his trousers and a thin undershirt, his arousal already
apparent.

Celeborn took a long, thick leather strap and handed it to Erestor
while he stripped himself of his robes.  "Do you crave the strap,
Haldir?" Celeborn asked as he hung his robes by the door.

"Aye, Master," Haldir panted, closing his eyes.

"Erestor," Celeborn said, joining the Noldo at the head of the table. 
"I desire you to truly make his backside ache.  I want to find my
pleasure in his mouth while you make him squirm under the lash." 
Celeborn's voice was thick and his length bobbed freely before
Haldir's parted lips.

The Noldo's eyes burned with remembered nights with both the Elf-lord
and March Warden.  He took position behind Haldir and smiled at
Celeborn.  The Lórien Lord fed his shaft to the bound Elf, his
glittering eyes watching eagerly as Erestor raised the strap and
brought it down on the tender, abused flesh of Haldir's backside.

Erestor watched Celeborn thrust in and out of Haldir's willing mouth
while the Noldo striped the bound Elf's thighs and backside with the
strap.  He remembered each of Haldir's sensitive spots, recalled the
Elf's limits and soon had Haldir moving in cadence with the blows. 
Erestor throbbed within his trousers and knew he would have to rush to
his quarters to relieve his discomfort.  He had not lied to Celeborn
in the hallway; Erestor belonged to Glorfindel now and would not
betray their relationship.

Celeborn withdrew from Haldir's mouth, and Erestor could see the firm
erection he knew so well glistening in the low light.  The Lórien Lord
must have noticed, for he grinned wolfishly.  "Are you certain you do
not wish to take my place here, Erestor?" he asked in a voice thick
with passion.

Erestor opened his mouth to protest, but the words died on his lips as
he began to seriously consider the offer.  Ultimately, though, he
shook his head.  "Yes, my Lord, I am certain."

Celeborn shrugged slightly.  "As you wish.  If we are finished with
his mouth, then, I see no reason to leave it open."  He reached into
the pool of his robes on the floor and produced a rubber ball gag.  He
fastened it securely around Haldir's head so that it held the March
Warden's mouth open but completely filled.  Celeborn then unfastened
the latches holding Haldir's shackles to the table.  He used a small
lever on the wall to lower a dangling chain, and Haldir obediently
raised his arms to allow Celeborn to hook the iron wrist cuffs to it.

Erestor watched with a technical fascination.  The winching mechanism
that Celeborn used was elegant: completely hidden and virtually
silent.  He would have to speak to the silver-haired Elf-lord later
about having something similar crafted for his own playroom.  He
brought his attention, with some difficulty, back to the other
occupants of the room.  Celeborn had raised the chain -- and
consequently, Haldir -- so that the March Warden was pulled into a
kneeling position on the table and was currently laying on the table
himself, positioned with his hips between Haldir's legs.

"Would you prepare our pet?" Celeborn asked while stroking his length
languidly.

The Noldo nodded and took a large decanter of oil from a shelf; trust
Celeborn to never need to call for a servant mid-session.  Erestor
coated his hand with the viscous fluid and easily slid two fingers
into Haldir's passage.  He knew how well used Haldir's body was and
Erestor quickly prepared the moaning, squirming Elf impaled on his
fingers.  "I think he's ready, my Lord," Erestor said huskily.  "He
seems most eager."  Erestor crooked his fingers within the clenching
channel and chuckled when Haldir stiffened, his muffled cries of
pleasure filling the room.

Celeborn's eyes flickered up to Haldir as Erestor's fingers left
Haldir's body.  Erestor knew the look; Celeborn was silently reminding
the gagged Elf of his duty.  Haldir slowly lowered himself onto
Celeborn's erection, moaning behind the large ball in his mouth.  Once
he had settled on the Elf-lord, the March Warden began to fluidly
gyrate atop Celeborn, wringing moans of pleasure from Celeborn's full
lips.

As he watched, Erestor throbbed painfully.  He did not think he could
wait until he returned to his rooms, so the Noldo untied his trousers
and took himself in hand.  Erestor's eyes became half-lidded and his
lips parted.  He remembered the tightness of Glorfindel, the smell of
his fluids, and the sound of his cries.  They were nothing like
Haldir's pleasurable grunts or Celeborn's low moans, but he could
almost recall the exact pitch of Glorfindel's voice as the Elda found
his release.  Erestor rubbed his hand over the swollen head of his
cock, his fist tight and slick around his heavy shaft.

He was lost in his memory, his eyes focused on where the two Elves
before him became one, when he felt the brush against his mind. 
Erestor raised his eyes and met the lust-darkened gaze of Celeborn. 
His hand never faltering in its stroking, Erestor let Celeborn into
his mind.

/Are you enjoying yourself?/ was Celeborn's hazy thought.

Erestor smirked.  /Most assuredly.  I have always found him to be a
lovely Elf to watch in passionate submission./

/You do not take him... why?/

/I told you; I belong to Glorfindel,/ Erestor said forcefully.

Celeborn licked his lips lasciviously.  /You stand there, with your
trousers about your ankles, stroking yourself in time to his
movements.  I only ask your assistance./

/My assistance is limited./

/I want you to take him as I take him,/ Celeborn said, his eyes
returning to Haldir's fair face.

/As you take him?  You do not mean.../ Erestor asked in disbelief.

/Do not tell me you have never thought of it, *Master* Erestor,/
Celeborn taunted.  /If Glorfindel should find out that you have been
with another, simply move the blame to me.  I desire you to assist me;
Haldir has grown used to my girth and length and I desire to fill him
beyond what he is expecting./

Erestor pulled into himself, and Celeborn respectfully withdrew from
his mind.  Glorfindel...  The Elf-lord was asking his help in this
session, and Erestor did not think he wanted to truly decline any
longer.  After a moment, his eyes hardening with new resolve, Erestor
touched Celeborn's mind.

/Very well.  I shall do as you ask./

Celeborn shot him a knowing look.  /And Glorfindel?/

Erestor smiled wickedly, an expression that never ceased to unnerve
even the strongest heart.  /*I* am Master.  No other./

The device that held Haldir up shifted some, allowing more slack so
that Haldir was forced forward more.  Erestor coated his length with
the thick oil and climbed the table, straddling Celeborn's legs. 
"Your Master has asked my assistance," Erestor whispered hotly into
Haldir's ear.  "I have agreed."

Erestor crouched down, aligning the head of his shaft with Haldir's
already filled passage.  Holding himself, he pushed forward, gradually
adding his length to the quivering channel.  Slowly, he slipped
further and further into Haldir, the March Warden's strangled cries
urging him on.

"By the Valar, Erestor," Celeborn groaned.  "So tight!"

"Aye," Erestor panted as he slid the last inch into the over-filled
passage.  "Tight and hot, hard and ready," he said, pinching Haldir's
sensitive backside as he began to thrust.

Haldir moaned loudly with every movement, and Erestor decided he
wanted to *hear* the Elf.  He stilled his movements long enough to
remove the gag, tossing it to the wooden floor.  Haldir panted, his
arms straining in their bonds.  "Tell me, Haldir... speak to me as we
use your body," Erestor encouraged, thrusting forward sharply.

"Aiya!" Haldir cried out.  "Full!  Stretched..." came the breathless
replies.

"Do you want us to stop?" Erestor asked, moving faster.

Haldir shook his head.  "No!  Please, no."

"You like this," Erestor said.

"Yes..."

"You would take more if it were possible.  You would open your body to
as much as your Master could fill you with," Erestor continued.

"Yes!  More!  Please, more," Haldir sobbed.

Celeborn reached up and cupped Haldir's cheek.  "We shall have a
special phallus constructed for you, my pet," the Lórien Lord said,
his voice hoarse with need.  "Thick, long...  So much thicker than
what you have now.  And I will chain your legs up in the air, spread
before me on your back, and I will slip it deep into your body,"
Celeborn said, and Haldir moaned loudly.

"Yes!"

Erestor watched Celeborn take Haldir's dripping shaft in his hand and
stroke firmly.  "You want to come, do you not?  Filled with us,
thinking of being filled further..."

Haldir went still, his voice a wordless, tortured cry as his seed
spurted over Celeborn's hand and over the Elf-lord's chest.  Erestor
moaned quietly, his fluids mingling with Celeborn's in the squeezing,
convulsing passage.  The three Elves panted and trembled in the
aftermath of their intense session.  Erestor felt emotionally and
physically spent and gently extricated himself from Haldir's exhausted
body.

*****

The Noldo closed the door to his chambers and stripped out of his robe
and trousers.  Erestor looked over his packs again before laying on
the soft mattress.  Guilt ate away at him.

Now that the act was complete and his bodily frustrations were eased,
Erestor now had the opportunity to reflect on his choice.  He had
assisted Celeborn; that was all, he told himself.  He had not betrayed
Glorfindel.  He was in control of their sexual lives, and this had
been his decision to make.  Glorfindel need never know what had taken
place in Celeborn's playroom.

Erestor tossed and turned, the sheets and coverlet were kicked from
the bed.  Sleep eluded him and him buried his face in his pillow.

This had been a mistake.

He should have said no.

But he hadn't.

How could he face Glorfindel now?  He could not lie to his lover. 
Should Glorfindel suspect his infidelity, Erestor knew he would not be
able to lie to the Elda.  Not convincingly, at any rate.

Valar, what had he done?

TBC...

Title: Something Special, Something Sacred
Chapter: Chapter Eight : You Are the Desert

---

Imladris, Third Age 2032

His dark eyes glittered as he stood against the wall, watching.  He
always watched.  Even when he acted, he watched.  The golden Elf
animatedly told the story of Maedhros, of the Noldo's capture and
torment by Morgoth, and a thought slowly formed.

Erestor's lips curved into a wicked smirk that would have set
Glorfindel's blood on fire if the Elda had been looking.  Instead,
Erestor continued to watch his lover tell the children gathered in the
small classroom about Fingon's valiant rescue.  His thoughts centered
on Glorfindel, as they had since he had returned from Lórien.

Lórien... He had not spoken to Glorfindel of his time with Celeborn
and Haldir, and the Elda had not asked about it.  There were times
when he thought he saw a shadow in the azure eyes of his lover as they
regarded him, and Erestor would feel the need to pull Glorfindel into
his arms and love him long into the night.  It was his guilt that had
prevented him from taking Glorfindel into the playroom.  Erestor could
not do such acts at the time; he had been too busy reminding himself
of his deep love for the Balrog-slayer.

But, his guilt had eased with the passing weeks and Glorfindel's quiet
devotion.  This evening, they would go into the playroom, and Erestor
would now reassert himself as Master.

Erestor cast his dark gaze to Glorfindel once more before slipping out
of the classroom; he needed to make preparations for this evening's
session.

*****

Erestor stared at Glorfindel's lithe form, glistening in the light of
the room.  The Elda's right arm was extended high above his head, the
wrist securely shackled to the face of the wall.  To the casual
observer, Glorfindel hung from that point, all his weight held by his
bound wrist.  But, Erestor knew better.  Glorfindel's right foot
balanced carefully on a small rock protrusion, offering balance and
relief for the Elf.

Glorfindel was also gloriously naked; a sight Erestor never grew tired
of.

The Elda's flesh was covered in a myriad of welts and bright red
stripes, and Glorfindel's eyes were glazed with pain and lust. 
Erestor reached out his slender hand and ran the tip of his index
finger up Glorfindel's heavy shaft.  The Balrog-slayer moaned and
closed his eyes, and Erestor swiped the finger over the slit.  When
the cobalt eyes were revealed to him again, Erestor slowly brought the
slick finger to his lips, snaking his tongue out to taste Glorfindel's
need.

"Did you think I would simply surrender?"

Glorfindel answered with a weak groan, his eyes trained on the finger
that moved from Erestor's mouth to run over the dark Elf's pale body.

"Did you think they would come for you?"

Erestor pulled a leather device he knew Glorfindel had yet to
experience.  He approached his lover and caressed the Elda's length
again.  "You are alone, Maitimo," Erestor whispered, his dark eyes
smoldering beneath his long lashes.  His fingers danced over the hard
column, his eyes holding Glorfindel's.  "You are mine."  Erestor took
the leather piece and slipped it between the base of Glorfindel's
arousal and the heavy globes below, stretching the skin.  Once that
was in place, he brought another strap around from behind and
separated the spheres, smiling cruelly when Glorfindel whimpered.

The Noldo then walked to a low table and picked up a slim instrument. 
He saw Glorfindel eye the item warily.  "A new torment, my dear
Noldo."  He held the item up in the light.  "Long like a crop, but
stiff, firm.  The two little tines?  Just as stiff as the handle;
'Lam-e-lyg' -- Tongue of the Snake."  Erestor fondled the two firm
tines at the end of the handle.  It was called lam-e-lyg for a reason:
it looked like the forked tongue of a snake.

It was also delightfully painful when used.

Glorfindel swallowed visibly and Erestor crept closer to the Elda. 
"Morgoth..." was the strained word that passed the full lips.

"Aye," Erestor said in a low, dangerous voice.  "That is the name your
father cursed me with.  But, now I have his eldest... laid bare before
me... and desperate for my touch."  To emphasize the point, he flicked
the tip of the flogger gently across Glorfindel's swollen arousal
causing the blond to hiss in surprise.

"Tell me where your brothers are!" Erestor demanded in a gruff voice. 
He was by no means as imposing a figure as Morgoth, but he did his
best to play the role.

Glorfindel, too, was striving to take on the character of Maedhros. 
Erestor knew that the Elda had actually met the Feanorian millennia
ago in Valinor, long before the traumatic imprisonment they were
re-enacting now.  True to Maedhros' demeanor, Glorfindel did not
answer or, indeed, give any sign of having heard the question.

Erestor brought the forked leather across the side of Glorfindel's
erection, taking care not to harm the sensitive skin.  He repeated his
question, and again Glorfindel remained silent.  Erestor smiled grimly
and swatted along the other side of the engorged flesh.  Glorfindel
winced, and Erestor did not pause before slapping the stiff flogger
across the heavy globes he had pulled tight with the harness.

Glorfindel bit his lip to keep from crying out as Erestor continued
the assault on the Elda's shaft until all the skin was as dark red as
the swollen head.  Erestor's own body thrummed with his need of
release and he tossed the forked-flogger aside while unlacing his
black trousers.  "You are mine.  Now until the end, Elf," he spat as
he wrapped his fingers around his hot flesh.  "Even if you somehow
escape my imprisonment, you will forever remember my touch upon your
flesh," Erestor hissed as he stroked himself.

The Noldo watched Glorfindel's eyes, eyes that never moved from where
Erestor stroked himself.  "Do you like seeing me take my pleasure?" he
asked in a low voice, approaching Glorfindel slowly.

"Aye," Glorfindel forced out, and his features were flushed in a light
crimson.  Erestor saw the Elda's erection throb with each heartbeat,
leaking the clear fluids of his desire steadily.

Erestor slowed his strokes, keeping himself on the edge of completion. 
"Would you like to know what I am thinking of as I touch myself?" he
asked seductively, now mere inches from the golden Elf-lord.

Glorfindel nodded his head slightly, and Erestor chuckled.  "Of course
you do..." Erestor gripped himself more firmly, allowing a moan to
escape his lips.  "I imagine the tightness of your body, the heat of
your submission," he said, pumping himself as he brought to mind the
very feel of burying himself into Glorfindel.  "I think of the cries
you would utter as I took you, quickly and with hard thrusts; the
pleas that would spill from your lips when I wrap my fingers around
you and demand you find your release as I fill your body with my
seed."

A whimper did leave Glorfindel, and the Noldo smiled as he watched
Glorfindel's hips move forward slightly, seeking some form of
friction.  "You can feel me, can you not?  Slick and hard inside you,"
Erestor panted, his hand stroking his shaft furiously now.  "You would
like to lift your legs for me, to offer yourself to me and my
desires."

"Aye!" Glorfindel cried, his free hand gripping at the stone wall. 
Erestor had to give his lover credit; Glorfindel never reached out to
relieve his own burning arousal.

With a final pull on his length, Erestor spent himself, his seed
falling onto Glorfindel's pale skin.  The Noldo continued to stroke
himself, milking all the pleasure he could, he gaze never leaving the
flesh now coated in his essence.  He extended out a hand and drew a
finger through the milky fluid, and smiled a tired, lazy smile at the
Elda.  "Mine," Erestor breathed.

He met Glorfindel's eyes and read the raw need in their depths. 
Erestor wiped his hand on a rag near him and did up his trousers.  "I
want you to come, Maitimo," he said softly.  "I want to see you bring
yourself that relief you seem desperate to find."

Glorfindel automatically reached for his cock, but then remembered he
was in character and stopped.  He looked defiantly down at "Morgoth"
and hissed, "Why should I care about what you want, Fallen One?"

Erestor laughed, deep and throaty.  "You will find release by my
terms, or you will never find it again!"  He reached between
Glorfindel's legs and unfastened the harness, pulling it away in one
smooth motion.  "This is not the only device I have, Maitimo.  I have
many others that are much more... unpleasant."

The Elda sighed in defeat, casting his eyes downward.  He carefully
wrapped his fingers around his arousal, made tender by the combination
of the restraint and the flogging.  "Damn you," he grunted as he began
to gingerly stroke himself between his thumb and forefinger.

"Redundant, my beautiful captive," Erestor quipped.

Erestor watched Glorfindel's touch become more sure, the slim hand
wrapping around his shaft.  The strokes were firm and quick as the
need for release became more powerful than the throbbing sensitive
flesh.  When he raised his dark gaze to Glorfindel's face, he saw the
clear blue eyes watching him intently.  "Whom do you touch yourself
for?" Erestor asked, his voice a harsh whisper in the silence of the
room.

"You."

"A name," Erestor demanded, cupping the head of Glorfindel's length.

Glorfindel's eyes slipped closed, and his hand jerked as his seed and
a name spilled from his body.  "Erestor..."

Erestor's own eyes fell shut as the warm fluid pooled in his hand,
only to slip through his fingers.  When he opened those inky orbs
again, he lifted the glistening fingers to Glorfindel's parted lips. 
"Clean me, Glorfindel," he ordered in a low, husky tone.

An odd expression crossed his lover's face, but it was gone before
Erestor could place it.  Glorfindel's warm tongue snaked out to lick
at the essence covered digits, diligently cleaning his master's hand. 
Something nagged within Erestor, something that told him things were
not quite right, but he pushed the feeling aside.

It was just his guilt, he reassured himself as Glorfindel drew a
finger deep into his mouth.  Just his guilt, and that would fade in
time.  Erestor's lust resurfaced quickly when Glorfindel stroked the
finger with his tongue and any thoughts of unease were filed away.

He had better things to think on.

TBC...

Title: Something Special, Something Sacred
Chapter: Chapter Nine : Preacher, Teacher

---

Imladris, Third Age 2032

Glorfindel knelt on the cold flagstone, his knees slightly parted and
his palms resting on his thighs.  The Elda's back was straight and his
eyes were cast to the floor before him, the collar hung heavily about
his neck.  He sat beside the large, high-backed chair where Erestor
was seated.  Though he did not look up, he knew Erestor watched him;
the dark eyes would be heavy-lidded, the Noldo's thick lashes hiding
the inky blackness of his lover's gaze.

"Serve."

The one word, spoken in a firm, low voice, sparked Glorfindel into
action.  He pivoted sharply on his knees so that he faced Erestor, but
he kept his eyes lowered; he then slowly, but gracefully, stood. 
Glorfindel took two steps back from Erestor and turned again.  He now
raised his eyes to the large cherry sideboard against the wall. 
Knowing Erestor's eyes followed his every move, Glorfindel walked to
the sideboard and retrieved a wine glass.

He inspected the glass in the low light.  His eyes had been trained by
Erestor to look for the nicks or imperfections in the glass; he turned
the clear glass around and around several times before taking the rim
of the glass and pressing it to the soft flesh of his inner thigh. 
Under Erestor's smoldering gaze, he drew the glass up along his skin,
turning the glass as he did.

The practice displayed the devotion of the submissive for his master
since a single imperfection could draw blood.  By the time the glass
reached his groin, Glorfindel's shaft was erect and his face was
flushed.  The simple act of performing for Erestor aroused Glorfindel;
his heart beat for the Noldo and the submission he offered Erestor was
complete.  He placed the glass on the sideboard and turned to the wine
rack, choosing one of Erestor's favorite vintages for the evening. 
Glorfindel also took down a small glass, simple in design.  After
uncorking the bottle, he poured but a splash into the smaller glass.

Under Erestor's ever-present gaze, he sipped the wine, assuring it had
not soured in the bottle.  Glorfindel swirled the liquid in his mouth,
savoring the warm, spicy flavor before he poured the wine into
Erestor's glass.  He recorked the bottle, put it back into the rack,
and placed the glass on a pewter platter.  The Elda returned to
Erestor, bending down slightly and offering the glass.

Erestor took the glass, and Glorfindel watched with heated eyes as the
Noldo sipped the wine.  He had to restrain his desire to lean forward
and swipe his tongue across Erestor's bottom lip where a drop of the
red liquid rested, until Erestor ran his pink tongue along his lip to
lap up the wayward drop.

Glorfindel's arousal throbbed.

Erestor nodded his approval and Glorfindel quickly returned the tray
to the sideboard.  He quickly, but elegantly, returned to his kneeling
position beside Erestor; he waited with learned patience for Erestor's
instructions.  Tonight they had followed a different pattern, and
Glorfindel was eager to find out what new experience Erestor had
planned for him.

When Glorfindel had come into their room this evening, Erestor had
been sitting the high-backed chair, staring into the hearth.  The dark
eyes then swept the room and landed on the Elda.  He had been
instructed to strip, plait his hair and kneel.

He complied immediately, presenting his long throat to Erestor to
collar.

They had remained in that position, silent and still, until Erestor
had asked for the serve.  Now, silence again.  Glorfindel could tell
his lover was brooding over something; Erestor had been moody since
his return from Lórien.  They never spoke of his journey to the Golden
Wood, but Glorfindel was certain something had happened to the Noldo
during his month in Celeborn's realm.

He was afraid to ask, though.  And Erestor was not confessing, so they
continued as if Erestor had never left Imladris.

"Position Seventeen."

Glorfindel, without thought, shifted his position to reflect the
wishes of Erestor.  He moved back so that his knees were even with the
back of Erestor's chair and he leaned forward, placing his palms flat
on the floor.  Glorfindel let his head fall forward, so that he had a
view of his length, a bead of moisture pooled in the slit.  His back
was perfectly straight and he was as still as a piece of furniture.

Which was exactly what he was.  Glorfindel felt the cool base of the
wine glass press against the center of his back.  He was Erestor's
side table until the Elf told him otherwise.

"I will teach you a new position this night, Glorfindel," Erestor said
in the smooth, liquid tones that caused Glorfindel to tremble.  "I
have always admired your line; strong, straight lines of a warrior. 
You are beautiful and I wish to display you for my enjoyment. 
Artistically speaking."

Glorfindel felt his stomach flutter at Erestor's words.  His lover had
not taught him a new position in weeks, and Glorfindel was excited at
the prospect of being able to prove his dedication to their lessons.

Erestor removed the glass from Glorfindel's back and the Elda heard
the Noldo stand.  "Position One," was the instruction that finally
came.

Glorfindel gave a quick, "Yes, Sir," before he stood up, his back as
straight as it had been while in Position Seventeen, and his palms
were flat against the back of his neck with his fingers laced
together.

"I am going to show you Position Twenty-One."  When Erestor's cool
hands touched Glorfindel's heated skin, the blond had to forcefully
swallow a groan.  He was quickly moved into position; his upper body
was tilted slightly to his right, and his arms were extended above his
head, each bowed at the elbow and his fingers barely meeting.  "Keep
your legs together; yes, like that," Erestor praised, and Glorfindel's
eyes fell shut as his lover's hand cupped his buttocks tenderly.  "You
are beautiful; tall, slender, and perfect.  Remain in that position."

The position was the most difficult Glorfindel had been ordered into,
and he worried he would not be able to maintain the pose for long.  He
prayed silently to the Valar that he could please his lover.  What he
was not prepared for was the knock at their chamber door.  Glorfindel
shifted as if to let the position fall, but a stern glance from
Erestor stopped him.

"Do *not* move."

Glorfindel watched with wide, frightened eyes as Erestor let their
Lord into the room.  Elrond glanced to the large chair where
Glorfindel was posed beside before turning his attention to his
Councilor.

"Welcome, Elrond," Erestor said, leading Elrond to where Glorfindel
stood.

Elrond nodded, his stormy eyes roving over Glorfindel's exposed frame. 
The Elda felt his cheeks flush scarlet and he could swear there were
tears in his eyes.  How dare Erestor do this to him!  The safe word
was poised on the tip of his tongue, but when he raised his eyes to
Erestor's, it died there.  His lover's eyes sparkled with the
challenge, as if daring Glorfindel to speak the word.  Fine, if
Erestor wanted this, then he would play along.  When Elrond left and
the scene was over, he and Erestor would have a talk.  This was
crossing the line.

But, a voice in the back of his head said, when the line is crossed,
the safe word should be spoken.  He refused to use that word, so had a
line truly been crossed?  His reverie was broken when Elrond began to
speak.

"It is lovely," the Elf-lord said.  "So much more than I thought."

Glorfindel bristled at being referred to as 'it', but remained silent. 
Erestor's hand trained lightly from Glorfindel's throat to his navel,
the amused gaze never leaving the Elda's face.  "Aye, it is."  Erestor
moved out of Glorfindel's sight, but he felt the plait holding his
hair back come unwound.  "The most beautiful golden silk; you must
touch it."  Erestor asking Elrond to touch him!

A long sigh.  "Soft like silk, aye.  Celebrían's is more like heavy
satin."  Elrond ran the tip of his finger over Glorfindel's cheekbone. 
"You have quite a prize here, melethron vrûn."  Elrond wetted his lips
and smiled slightly at the frozen Elf. (old lover)

"Hannon chen," Erestor responded before he sat in the chair beside
Glorfindel.  "Will you join me, my Lord?" he asked, indicating for
Elrond to take the chair opposite him.

"I would be honored."  From the corner of Glorfindel's eye, he saw his
Lord settle into the chair and begin to speak with Erestor about the
day's events.

As the hours wore on, Glorfindel's body started to protest at the
position it was forced to maintain.  He was certain his back would
ache when morning came.  Against his will, his body sagged slightly,
his posture not as perfect and straight as it had been most of the
night.  Quick as lightning, Erestor swung a crop -- where the Noldo
had hidden it, Glorfindel was not sure -- out, striking Glorfindel
sharply on his thigh.  The Elda immediately returned to the stiff
position, his eyes blazing with humiliation as the two lords continued
on as if nothing had happened.

Ithil was high in the night sky when Elrond bade Erestor a goodnight
and exited the room.  Erestor walked calmly to the twisted Elf, his
face as placid as a pond.  Glorfindel felt the anger well in him; his
arousal had long since abated.  He was simply fuming now, having spent
most of the evening with his thoughts.  Erestor carried Glorfindel's
night robe in one hand as he circled the blond.

"You did very well, except for that momentary lapse.  He was
impressed.  Elrond did not think you would be able to hold the
position as long as you did.  I am very proud of your stamina."  Cool
fingers, Erestor's fingers were always cool, Glorfindel thought,
danced over the collar and then released the clasp.  Erestor offered
him the robe as he removed the collar.  The Elda took the robe and
slipped into the silk.  The session was over; Erestor walked into the
playroom to return the collar to its hook and then came back into
their bedroom.

Glorfindel turned blazing sapphire eyes on the Noldo.  "I cannot
believe you invited Elrond in while I was posed like that!"  His voice
was tight; he had been humiliated in front of his employer and friend.

Erestor sat back in his chair with a new glass of wine, crossed his
legs and looked up at Glorfindel with that same mild expression
Glorfindel had come to loath.  "That was the point of the session,
Glorfindel.  I asked him to come tonight; he knew what to expect when
he walked in here."  Unruffled, liquid tones made Glorfindel feel
talked down to.  He was not stupid and his anger flared bright.

"He *knew*?  Erestor, you speak of our bedplay with our Lord?  Did you
not think of how this would make me feel?"  Glorfindel glared down at
Erestor, his jaw set and his eyes glittering with his discontentment.

"How you would feel?"  Erestor stood up slowly, putting his wine
aside.  "Glorfindel, you wanted the lessons; *you* asked me to teach
you.  This is nothing shocking to Elrond.  In fact, I went through
much the same lesson when I was Elrond's.  He brought Celeborn in one
night while I was posed for him and the two of them did much the same
thing I just did with Elrond.  No warning, no discussion, it just
*was*."

Glorfindel stared at Erestor in shock.  "Elrond's?"

A smile tugged at Erestor's lips.  "Aye, Elrond's.  Did you think I
simply *knew* what I know?  No.  Elrond taught me.  I was his for
almost five centuries.  He taught me most of what I know.  Seeing you
posed for me was nothing short of what he expected."  Erestor's eyes
narrowed for a moment and Glorfindel could sense the annoyance his
lover felt at being questioned by him.  "If it was so terrible,
Glorfindel, there was a word you could have spoken that would have
stopped the entire session.  You did not speak it, so do not be angry
with me for proceeding with the lesson as planned."

The protest Glorfindel was about to make died on his lips at Erestor's
words.  He stared at Erestor in pure astonishment.  Did his lover not
see how upset the session had made him?  Did Erestor simply not care
about his well-being, his desires any longer?  When had the rules of
their relationship changed, and why had Glorfindel not seen it?  Had
Erestor put him in this position to try and force him to call an end
to their game?

And how could he end it in front of Elrond?  Glorfindel's pride would
never allow for such an admission of weakness as that would have been! 
No, he endured the session because he could not have used the safe
word. Didn't he?

He hadn't used the safe word, so could he claim that the session was
completely out of line?  Glorfindel felt the anger in him dying a slow
death.  How could he blame Erestor for his own pride?  After all,
Elrond had only touched his cheek, only looked at his nude form.  Was
that so terrible?  Was he ashamed of what he allowed Erestor to do? 
Was he ashamed of his own body?  Of his submission?

Erestor would never truly have him do something he did not think
Glorfindel capable of weathering, so was it really so bad?  He trusted
Erestor... didn't he?

Glorfindel quickly pushed the thought aside, and pulled himself from
his reverie.  He turned his hooded eyes to Erestor again.  "Fine. 
Lesson is over and learned.  Do not invite someone into a session of
ours without my leave, Erestor."

Erestor nodded.  "Very well.  I am sorry I took your consent for
granted," the Noldo offered, though Glorfindel did not think the
apology sincere.

Yes, the relationship balance had been tipped at some point and
Glorfindel was no longer certain how.  "Thank you," he said instead,
pushing his misgivings down.

They stood in uncomfortable silence for a moment before Erestor
reached out to cup Glorfindel's cheek.  "I am sorry, melethen," he
said softly, and Glorfindel felt all his anger drain away.  He smiled
at his lover and leaned into the soft caress.  "Do you want to retire
now?" Erestor asked, kissing Glorfindel's lips tenderly.

"Aye.  It is late and I have patrol in the morning."  Glorfindel
followed Erestor to their large bed, a slight smile on his lips as he
stripped out of his robe.  He watched Erestor remove his robes,
undershirt, boots and breeches before the Noldo joined him in their
bed.  Erestor was nude.  Glorfindel knew this meant Erestor desired to
make love, though it was a silent request.

Erestor took him into his arms, kissing his slowly and deeply.  When
the dark Elf pulled back, Glorfindel was lost; he was hard and needy
and ready to receive his lover.

In Erestor embrace, Glorfindel knew nothing beyond the love and desire
for the Noldo.

TBC...

Title: Something Special, Something Sacred
Chapter: Chapter Ten : The Way You Still Say Please

---

Imladris, Third Age 2032

Glorfindel walked down the hall, flipping through the various
parchments in his hands.  He stopped before Erestor's office and
rapped loudly on the wood.

"Come!"

The Elda entered the spacious room and smiled at the seated Noldo. 
"Good afternoon, Erestor.  I wondered if you had a moment?"

Erestor returned the smile and motioned to the chair that sat before
his desk.  "I always have time for Imladris' Seneschal," he teased,
leaning back in his chair.  "What is it you need?"

Glorfindel seated himself and held out the sheaf of papers to his
colleague.  "I cannot work with your budget allotments for the
barracks.  I have taken on twenty new recruits; I will require more
currency to purchase additional rations and new armor."

"Glorfindel, I have already increased the budget for defense three
times in the last two decades.  How much more can you possibly need?"
Erestor asked, shuffling through the papers.

"I need twenty pieces of gold, twelve in silver and forty in copper,"
Glorfindel stated.  "It is not a significant increase, and I have
spoken to the neighboring villages to assure we receive the best price
for the rations and raw materials needed."

Erestor pondered on this for a moment before replying.  "This has been
a lean year, Seneschal.  I am not sure I will be able to find the
funds within the coffer to meet your demands."  Erestor's dark eyes
measured the blond Elf-lord, wondering how far Glorfindel would push
the budget issue.  This was not the first time that finances had
sparked an argument, but Erestor was not lying -- the treasury was low
this year.

The Elda shrugged.  "Then dock it from my pay.  Imladris' defense is
more important to me than my pay."

"Dock your pay?  Glorfindel, that is not necessary," Erestor said,
sitting straighter in his chair.

"If Imladris has had a lean year, then those who run her should
sacrifice to ensure that she remains safe.  My pay is of little
concern to me.  I have saved for years, and there is little that I
need.  Take it from my pay, Erestor."  Glorfindel crossed his arms and
smirked at the silent Councilor.  "Do you not agree, my Lord?" he
teased.

Erestor chuckled and shook his head.  "You are hopeless, meldir."

"Which is how you like me best," Glorfindel replied.

"Aye, which is why I *love* you.  Very well, you will have the funds
by the end of the week."  Erestor stood and handed Glorfindel back his
papers.  "Will that be all?"

Glorfindel stood as well.  "I believe so, though I expected much more
of a challenge!  You must be softening in your old age."

Erestor walked with Glorfindel to the door of his office.  "Old.  Ha. 
You were born long before I was."

"Do not lie, Erestor.  It is very unbecoming of an Elf of your status. 
I may have attended your birth, but I was not more than a child
myself."  Glorfindel wrapped his arms around Erestor's waist and
smiled wistfully at the Councilor.  "Will you be late tonight?"

"No, I do not think so.  Elrond has not asked me to stay behind after
the evening meal.  I should be done by sundown."  Erestor rested his
hands on Glorfindel's upper arms.  "Do you want to take dinner in the
Hall or in our rooms?"

Glorfindel smiled.  "Our rooms, I think."

Erestor nodded.  "Very well, I will arrange it."

"I need to go and speak with Elrond.  I will see you tonight." 
Glorfindel leaned in and gave Erestor a quick kiss on his lips before
extracting himself from the embrace.  He winked at Erestor and then
darted off down the hall.

"Sometimes, I wonder if he ever grew up," Erestor muttered to himself,
closing his office door.  "Dock his pay," he chuckled.  "His heart is
great, I must admit," he finished as he sat behind his desk, diving
back into the day's work.

*****

Elrond looked up from his desk as his golden-haired Seneschal entered
the room.  "Lord Glorfindel!  To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Glorfindel felt heat rise in his cheeks, but he forced himself to
remain composed.  He had not been alone with the Peredhel since the
night Elrond had witnessed his session with Erestor.  Erestor
continued to reassure Glorfindel that Elrond would never be so
unprofessional as to even mention the evening, but Glorfindel still
felt queasy as he sat down in the seat before Elrond's mammoth desk. 
"Lord Erestor and I have increased the funding to Imladris' defense,"
he said, his voice even and firm.  He raised his eyes to meet Elrond's
and was surprised to see nothing but a friendly, inquisitive gaze. 
"We have taken on twenty new warriors over the winter."

"Twenty?" Elrond asked, folding his hands on his desk.  His brow
furrowed as he thought.  "Where did they come from?  I was not aware
of a large influx of Elves."

"Many of them hail from Mirkwood," Glorfindel said, leaning back and
crossing his legs as he became more comfortable.  "It seems some of
the Silvan warriors have families, spouses who worry.  They felt it
would be safer for them and their families if they relocated to
Imladris or Lórien."

Elrond let out a long sigh.  "Why did they come here?"

Glorfindel shook his head.  "From what they tell me, Celeborn took
many of their number into his ranks, but there are already many Elves
living in the Golden Wood.  Many have left Thranduil.  They had to
come further, they had no choice but to come to Imladris."

"Thranduil cannot afford to lose his warriors, Glorfindel," Elrond
said, his tone becoming harsher.  "He fights a battle each day..."

"Aye, I know this.  And so do his warriors."  Glorfindel looked out
one of the large windows that had a beautiful view of the waterfalls
in the valley.  "Mirkwood is dark now, very dark.  They needed
somewhere to go.  If I did not take them into our ranks, then they
would have traveled further and asked Círdan for refuge."

The Peredhel nodded.  "You do have a point.  But, if Thranduil calls
for aid, we will give it."

"Thranduil would call to Lórien before he called for Imladris.  We are
much farther from his wood than Celeborn is.  And we both know
Celeborn and Galadriel would not leave Thranduil to fight alone."  The
Elda uncrossed his long legs and smiled.  "But, I think Thranduil has
not lost as many warriors as it may seem.  Lórien and Imladris now
house those who fled Thranduil's wood, but I have been to Mirkwood. 
He has *many* in his service."

"We will still answer any call of aid he may issue," Elrond insisted. 
"He is a dear friend, and I will not leave him in a time of need."

Glorfindel bowed his head in respect.  "Of course, my Lord.  I would
expect no less of one as noble as yourself."

Elrond smirked.  "Flattery?  Why, Glorfindel, was there more you
needed?"

The blond Elf laughed.  "No, my Lord.  It is just at times like this I
am reminded of your unerring loyalty; it has not been tested in many
years."

"Aye," Elrond said, a note of sadness in his voice.  "I hope it is not
tested again.  To test it means dire circumstances.  These times may
be dark, but I hope they do not become darker."

Glorfindel stood and placed a hand on Elrond's folded ones.  "You and
I both know the times will become much darker before the light is seen
again, meldir."

"I know."  Elrond patted Glorfindel's hand.  "But, you and I have seen
some of the darkest times.  We shall persevere."

"Oh yes.  We shall," Glorfindel said, standing straight.  "And should
Thranduil call, we will rush to his aid."

"Thank you, Glorfindel," Elrond said.  "Is there anything else you
need?"  The Elda shook his head.  "Then I bid you a good afternoon; I
promised to go on a picnic meal with my family."

Glorfindel smiled brightly.  "Enjoy your afternoon, then, my Lord. 
Please give your Lady my love; I have not seen her lately."

Elrond nodded.  "I will.  She misses your late-night conversations,
and the twins are chewing at the bit to spar with you again."

As the two Elf-lords exited the office, Glorfindel chuckled.  "Then
Erestor and I will make it a point to join you and your family on the
next free day."

"They will be delighted.  Navaer, Glorfindel," Elrond said as he
headed off to the family wing of the Last Homely House.

"Navaer!" called Glorfindel, turning and walking in the opposite
direction to the barracks.

Glorfindel's heart was lighter and his step more brisk now that he had
faced his Lord; everything was just as it should be, he thought.

*****

Glorfindel watched Erestor from the bed.  Their evening meal had
already been cleared away and the Noldo now sat in a chair by the
hearth reading a novel.  Glorfindel lay in the bed, nude, appreciating
his lover's profile.

"Is there something you would like, melethen?" Erestor called without
looking up from the pages of his book.

A chuckle left Glorfindel's lips.  "No, I think the view from here is
lovely enough.  I cannot think of anything I would like more at the
moment."

Erestor shook his head as he closed the book.  "You lie, my Lord," he
said, standing up and stretching his stiff muscles.  "I can hear your
heartbeat from here, and it cries for more than simple observation."

Glorfindel arched a golden eyebrow as Erestor slowly approached the
bed, a prowling cat in the stillness of the room.  He could not deny
the speed of his heart; Erestor could bring him to such heights of
arousal without so much as a touch.  "My heart is never satisfied with
mere glances," he said, his words almost breathless.

The Noldo shed his clothing carefully, folding each piece of cloth and
setting it on a nearby chair.  "And your body?"

"My body is only satisfied when it is claimed by yours," Glorfindel
admitted, sitting up in the bed.  The thin sheet fell from his body,
revealing his already straining length.  The Elda rested on his knees,
allowing his hands to wander over his skin while he watched Erestor
disrobe.  "It yearns for those moments when you are master of my
pleasure rather than the master of Elrond's household."

When Erestor stood bare before Glorfindel's eyes, and just as ready,
the Noldo mounted the bed.  He sat on his knees, close to Glorfindel's
body but not touching.  His lips hovered over the pink petals of
Glorfindel's mouth, a smile curving them.  His lover's eyes were
already dark and glazed with anticipation and lust.  "You desire me to
master you?" he asked, his sweet breath ghosting over Glorfindel's
lips.

A crimson flush crept up Glorfindel's neck and he seemed to sway on
his knees.  "Aye," he breathed, and then Erestor's lips pressed
against hips mouth.  Long, slender fingers wound into long, golden
hair as Erestor deepened the kiss.  Glorfindel opened wide for the
Noldo, drawing Erestor's tongue into his mouth and tasting the
sweetness of Erestor's love for him.

Erestor broke the kiss suddenly and looked into the dark cobalt eyes. 
"On your hands and knees, melethron," he ground out, licking the
Elda's swollen lips before releasing Glorfindel's locks.  Erestor
watched with hungry eyes as Glorfindel did as he was told, swiveling
on the white sheets and bending over.  Glorfindel spread his legs
shamelessly, resting his head on his folded arms, and Erestor smiled
down at the Elf.  "You are so beautiful, Glorfindel," he whispered as
he reached for the bottle of oil beside the bed.

Glorfindel shuddered with the first touch of slick fingers against his
backside.  His eyes fell closed when Erestor breached him with two
fingers.  He moaned as he was carefully prepared, the digits sliding
easily in his well-used passage.  Within moments, he felt Erestor's
thick length press into him; he cried out loudly, voicing his pleasure
as his lover claimed him.

The Noldo slowly moved within the tight channel, gripping Glorfindel's
hips lightly.  The sounds Glorfindel made were not enough for Erestor,
so he leaned forward and wrapped his arm Glorfindel's waist,
whispering into the delicate ear.  "Up."  Glorfindel raised himself up
in Erestor's arms, and the Noldo spread his own thighs wider.  The
Elda's cry was sharp, followed by a needy whimper as Erestor thrust
further into the blond's body.

"Erestor!" Glorfindel sobbed, gripping at Erestor's thighs behind him.

Erestor continued to move slowly and deliberately, his hands never
moving below Glorfindel's navel.  "Hush, melethen," he said, licking
along the outside of Glorfindel's ear.  "All in good time."  Erestor
felt his lover's body become slack in his arms as Glorfindel let out a
frustrated groan.  He loved to have Glorfindel so desperate for
release, so needful against him.

A soft mewl left the blond.  "No, Erestor.  *Now*," he demanded,
impaling himself swiftly on Erestor's shaft.  Glorfindel reached for
his length, eager to find completion, but was stopped when Erestor's
hand gripped his wrist forcefully.  Glorfindel turned his blue eyes to
Erestor's black gaze.  "Now, Erestor," he said, his voice low and
trembling as Erestor delved into his body again.

The Noldo smiled.  This was the first time Glorfindel had ever
demanded his release and Erestor felt himself throb inside his lover. 
Just this time, he decided.  "Very well, pen-vara," he said, his
thrusts coming faster and deeper.  He took Glorfindel's arousal in
hand, closing his eyes when Glorfindel hissed his pleasure.

They moved quickly, Glorfindel setting their pace with his frantic
movements.  He would cry out as he impaled himself only to lift up and
thrust into Erestor's tight hand, wringing another cry from him. 
Erestor's eyes were trained on the writhing Elf as he marveled at
Glorfindel's grace and beauty.  He felt truly blessed to have the
golden warrior as his lover and he squeezed the hard length in his
hand, delighting in the moan.  "Come with me, Glorfindel," he
murmured, holding the Elf closer to him, moving with short, deep
strokes.  He desired to be as close to Glorfindel as he could.

Glorfindel arched, his head falling back on Erestor's shoulder, his
orgasm sudden and intense.  The Elda bucked, his body clenching
rhythmically about Erestor and the Noldo moaned, fiercely biting
Glorfindel's neck as he came inside his lover.

Slowly they returned to themselves and Erestor pulled back from
Glorfindel's neck, smiling smugly at the dark mark on the pale skin. 
"You are mine, Glorfindel," he whispered, lapping at the bruise and
stroking the Elda's sensitive member.

"Stop!" Glorfindel managed, swatting at Erestor's hand.  "I think you
have milked me of all I have, Erestor," he teased softly, leaning
against Erestor.  "Would you like me to clean your hand?" Glorfindel
offered.

Erestor shook his head.  "Nay," he said, bringing the creamy digits to
his own ruby lips.  "It has been too long since I last tasted you." 
The Noldo sucked at his fingers, savoring the bitter tang of his
lover.  When he was done, he leaned down and bestowed a tender kiss to
Glorfindel's lips.  "Melin chen, Glorfindel."

"I love you, too," Glorfindel breathed.  They shifted position again
and Glorfindel rested his head against Erestor's breast, his lover's
steady heartbeat following him into reverie.

TBC...

Title: Something Special, Something Sacred
Chapter: Chapter Eleven : My Favorite Disease

---

Imladris, Third Age 2032

Erestor smiled up at the panting Elf as he tightened the clamps.  "I
do so like the expressions that cross your face," he said, pulling
lightly on Glorfindel's clamped nipple.  He watched Glorfindel's eyes
squeeze shut and his hips roll forward.  "You are also very eager." 
Erestor walked to the wardrobe, taking out a little ring of leather
and a heavy weight.  He returned to Glorfindel and affixed the ring to
the base of the Elda's cock, and then hung the weight from it. 
Glorfindel let out a low moan, but Erestor ignored him.

He stepped back to admire his lover who was bound to the wall by
wrists and ankles. Glorfindel stood a few feet from the wall face,
allowing Erestor access to his front while exposing his back, but the
Elda could not lower his arms or bring his feet together.  The blond
Elf's back was already red from the flogger Erestor had taken to the
pale skin, anticipating the new element to their sessions.

Erestor walked to the same wardrobe and withdrew an implement he had
rarely been able to use.  The item was heavy and long; Erestor ran his
fingers over the leather for a moment, and then took his place behind
Glorfindel's sweat-dampened body.

"Are you ready for a new lesson?" Erestor asked quietly, the only
warning he gave before drawing the whip back and striking Glorfindel
expertly with it.

Glorfindel arched, though Erestor knew the strike wasn't particularly
painful.  He was close to his lover, and therefore he was hitting with
a thicker part of the whip.  It was more of a thud than a sting, but
he could not simply begin whipping at Glorfindel with abandon. 
Erestor was careful, his blows solid and sure, never hesitating when
he brought the length of leather forward.  He watched Glorfindel's
hands grip the chains, his body taut and tense.  After Glorfindel
began to relax into the whip, Erestor stepped back and applied the
thinner section of leather to the dark red back.

Erestor smiled at the sharp intake of breath, the tensing of sore
muscles.  Bright crimson stripes appeared on the abused flesh, and
Glorfindel shifted away from the lash.  Within in moments, the proud
Elda was grunting with every strike.  It did not take long before
Erestor had Glorfindel crying out sharply every time the whip fell; he
was careful, though, not striking hard enough to draw blood from his
lover.

The Noldo slowly slipped into an easy rhythm, stepping back to
lengthen the whip and bring more sting to the blows.  His mind
wandered as Glorfindel moaned, swayed and cried out.  He had used the
whip only on a few Elves; so many could not withstand the abuse it
could dole out.  Glorfindel though, *his* Glorfindel, was able to do
things Erestor himself had not been able to endure as Elrond's. 
Glorfindel amazed Erestor.  The Elda's desire to please him, need to
prove he could do anything Erestor asked of him... traits Erestor had
never dreamed existed in the golden Elf.

Aye, he had learned so many things about Glorfindel he had not known. 
Facets of his complicated personality he had not guessed at.  Though
he had been thrilled to have the Elda offer himself so openly, Erestor
often wondered about the motives behind Glorfindel's submission.  It
was almost like Glorfindel tried to out-last him, see how far *he*
could push Erestor instead of the other way around.

And this was something that nagged at Erestor.

The Noldo put the thoughts to the back of his mind.  No, Glorfindel
would not do such a thing; Erestor was in control of their sessions,
and Glorfindel was simply an outstanding partner.  Erestor blinked
several times, bringing himself from his reverie as he heard
Glorfindel's cries change; a shrill quality had entered the normally
level, deep tones of his lover's voice.  He drew the whip back again
and finally focused on the red, striped flesh before him.

Between Glorfindel's shoulder blades, bright and angry, were cuts in
the Elf's tender skin.  They were welling slowly, but the crimson was
vibrant and Erestor felt his gorge rise.

Never, in all his years as a Master of pained pleasure, had he drawn
blood from an Elf who had entrusted his well being to him.

But now...

He should have paid more attention, should not have let his mind
wander as it had.

The whip trembled in his hand and he opened his mouth to utter an
apology, to beg his lover for forgiveness.  Erestor stopped himself;
if he spoke now, it would break the spell he had woven for the Elda.
He watched Glorfindel's heaving back carefully, looked for a sign his
glorious golden warrior was in distress.  Glorfindel whimpered and
hung limply in his bindings, but not a word fell from his lips. 
Erestor crept closer to the sweat-slick body, his dark eyes wide and
his stomach roiling the nearer he came to those dark stripes marring
the beautiful skin.

Glorfindel's eyes were closed, his lips parted and dry, and Erestor
could tell the Elda had been crying.  He let his eyes travel down the
Elf's body, and that was when he realized Glorfindel was still
aroused.  His shaft was heavy, slick and hard, eagerly awaiting
relief.  Erestor stepped back quietly, his mind reeling.  His own
arousal had dissipated the moment the blood welled, and he did not
believe he could find it again.  No, this was not something he could
simply set aside.  But, he could not ignore his lover's needs. 
Whenever he had put Glorfindel through such torturous acts, he always
rewarded him.

He could not ignore Glorfindel's needs.

Erestor's gaze darted around the room, seeking some answer to the
situation he found himself in.  He could just stroke Glorfindel to his
completion, praising him or speaking coarsely to the warrior.  But,
no.  He knew his lover, knew his preferences.  Erestor could not
continue to strike Glorfindel; even if he wanted to, he had paused too
long -- Glorfindel would know something was amiss immediately.  If he
did anything of the sort, Glorfindel would be pulled from the
semi-conscious, pain-dulled realm all Elves in such a position
traveled to.  Erestor looked to his trembling hand, still holding the
thick, long handle of the whip in a white-knuckled grip.

The Noldo quickly crossed the room and removed a pot of salve from the
wardrobe.  He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment and
centering himself.  When his heart had slowed and his trembling
subsided, Erestor returned to the side of the shivering, panting Elf. 
He did not speak; Erestor did not think he *could* without Glorfindel
hearing the tremor he knew would be there.  Instead, he coated three
of his fingers with a large amount of the white cream, and wiped them
along the sleek hilt of the whip.  He pressed his greased digits to
Glorfindel's entrance, his eyes focused on a stone near Glorfindel's
foot.

The Elda hissed as he was penetrated, but Erestor paid no heed to it. 
He replaced his fingers with the handle, sliding it slowly into the
Elda's body.  Glorfindel mewed, his golden head falling forward and
his hips flexing back to meet the hard, large implement.  Erestor
worked the makeshift phallus, slowly and surely, his gaze occasionally
shifting to the blond Elf's body.

Glorfindel groaned, and Erestor saw the Elda's muscles twitch with
impending release.  This was something else that had fascinated
Erestor about Glorfindel -- how little or no stimulation could bring
the Elf to climax.  The ring he had placed on Glorfindel's length
would be offering some friction, enough to bring a quick end to their
play.  He swiftly moved the handle, pumping it in and out with the
motions of Glorfindel's body.  Glorfindel cried out, his body arcing
sharply as he spilled himself onto the floor, and Erestor let out a
long breath.

It was over.

Well, almost.

He gently removed the whip handle.  After he had placed the whip onto
a nearby table, he unclamped Glorfindel's swollen nipples.  He bent
his head to the abused flesh, laving the nubs with his tongue,
offering a silent apology that he knew Glorfindel would not
understand.  He slipped the ring and weight from the Elda's softening
sex, and returned all the toys to the wardrobe.  Erestor kneeled
behind Glorfindel, unpinning the restraints, and then stood and
unclasped the collar from his lover's neck.  He hung the collar where
it always rested out of session and turned his eyes back to
Glorfindel.  He reached up and removed the first wrist restraint.  As
Glorfindel's arm fell to his side, the Elda winced and sucked in his
breath.

"You must move slowly, melethen," he said softly as he walked to the
other arm.  Glorfindel nodded absently, and Erestor eased the second
restraint from his lover's wrist.  Glorfindel was more deliberate in
his movements, his arm falling carefully.  "Come.  Let me bathe you,
prepare you for bed."  He took Glorfindel's heated hand in his cool,
clammy one and led him from the playroom, snuffing the few candles lit
on their way out.

They did not speak as Erestor prepared the warm bath water, adding
herbs and oils.  Glorfindel's eyes were heavy-lidded, and his actions
slow and jerky, but the Elda managed to enter the bath himself. 
Erestor's eyes stung as he finally took in the full sight of his
lover's skin.

There were dozens of deep welts, several bruises and redness all over. 
This was to be expected, and those injuries were not what made him
want to sob.  No, the six lash marks that had begun to weep their
crimson tears.  They did not bleed profusely, but Glorfindel's
shifting and relaxing of his back had caused the wounds to open more. 
They would heal within days, but that did not change the fact that
Erestor had done it.  He had made his valiant lover bleed.  And it did
not matter to the stoic Councilor that it was not intentional; he had
still done the damage.

He opened his mouth again to apologize, but the words stuck in his
mouth.  To apologize now would mean he would admit the session had not
gone as he had planned.  It would be admitting his failure.

Erestor could not do that.

Instead, he took up a cloth and added medicinal soap oil to the
material, asking in an even, calm tone, "Are you all right?"

Glorfindel's cobalt eyes opened and a small smile crossed the Elda's
lips.  "Aye, Erestor.  I am well.  Sore, but nothing that will not
pass within a day or so."

Erestor nodded, carefully cleaning his lover.  He usually loved these
moments, bathing and tending to Glorfindel.  Erestor tried to smile,
but he could feel that the expression was stiff and did not reach his
eyes.  "You enjoyed yourself, then?" he asked, filling a pitcher with
water and wetting the long, golden tresses.

"Aye, I did," Glorfindel replied, moaning quietly when Erestor began
to massage the soap into his hair.  "Though, I had wondered where you
had gone when it became so quiet."

The Noldo did not miss a beat, simply chuckled and rinsed Glorfindel's
hair.  "I was admiring how proud you stood.  Your beauty never ceases
to steal my breath away, melethen."  The words felt sour.  Yes,
Glorfindel's beauty always stunned him, and he was certain it always
would.  They were light and dark, day and night, but that beauty had
become horrific when those stripes appeared.

He dried Glorfindel thoroughly, rubbing salve into the torn back.  A
tear did fall as his fingers touched those lines of betrayal, and he
quickly finished his work and wiped his hands.  Glorfindel turned to
him, brushing the dark hair from Erestor's pale features.

"Are *you* all right?" the Elda asked, his brow furrowing.

Erestor's expression softened and he truly smiled at his lover.  "I am
just tired, I think," he said, tossing the towel to the floor.  "It
has been a long day, and tomorrow does not look any better."

Glorfindel leaned in and kissed Erestor's lips, opening his mouth and
inviting Erestor to taste him.  The Noldo could not resist and kissed
his Glorfindel deeply, his shaft slowly filling as Glorfindel
whimpered into his mouth.  Glorfindel's slender fingers reached into
Erestor's leggings, and Erestor gasped.  "Glorfindel," he said,
looking into the blue gaze.  "Do not do that."

"Why?"

"I am tired."

Glorfindel kissed Erestor's neck softly.  "I am not asking you to do
anything more tonight.  Simply lay back and allow me to pleasure you."

"Glorfindel," he tried again, but his eyes fell shut as he was firmly
pushed back against the mattress and his leggings pulled from his
body.  He spread his legs, his eyes still closed as Glorfindel kissed
the inside of his thighs, tenderly nipping the flesh the closer he
came to Erestor's desire.

Erestor tried to push the image of Glorfindel's back from his vision,
instead focusing on the wet heat of his lover's tongue as it lapped at
his scrotum.  Glorfindel drew that slick muscle up Erestor's length,
flicking the tip just on the underside of the head of Erestor's cock. 
The Noldo arched his hips up slightly, silently asking to be pleasured
more fully.

Glorfindel obliged, as Erestor knew he would.  In the long years of
their relationship, Erestor had found Glorfindel's mouth was something
to marvel at.  The Elda could perform magic with his tongue, and the
power of his throat could milk Erestor's seed from him within moments. 
Glorfindel suckled, licked and swallowed, and it did not take long
before Erestor's fingers were knotted in the Elda's damp locks.  He
would thrust up into the tight, slick orifice, whispering his pleasure
into the silence of the room.

He sought his release, his body tight and tense as Glorfindel's mouth
worked him.  His eyes shot open and he buried his shaft into the
depths of Glorfindel's throat, his mouth open on a silent cry. 
Glorfindel moaned around the substantial length of flesh in his mouth,
swallowing all that Erestor could offer him.  Erestor panted, closing
his eyes again, twitching when Glorfindel suckled the last of his
fluid from him.

His golden lover crawled up the bed and placed a chaste kiss on
Erestor's parted lips.  "You always remind me of thick, sweet cream,"
Glorfindel murmured, laying his head on Erestor's chest.

Erestor brought his arm up, resting his hand on Glorfindel's back out
of habit.  Immediately, he felt the raised cuts on Glorfindel's skin
and the guilt ate at him again, draining all contentment from him. 
His languid, sated haze lifted, replaced by the knowledge he had hurt
his lover far more than he had ever intended.  He sighed and kissed
the top of Glorfindel's head, inhaling the floral scent that always
followed the Elda.  "I love you, Glorfindel," he said to those wet
strands of silk.

"I love you, too, penen-vorn," came the slurred reply, and Erestor
held Glorfindel closer to him.

Glorfindel's breathing deepened, but it was long past the mid-night
hour when Erestor finally fell into troubled reverie.

TBC...

Elvish/English:
Melethen - My love
Penen-vorn - My dark one

Title: Something Special, Something Sacred
Chapter: Chapter Twelve : Not Impressed

---

Imladris, Third Age 2032

Anor was just rising as he walked from the bathing chamber.  It had
been a long, restless night for them both, but Erestor had risen hours
before Glorfindel.  Erestor stopped, leaned against the doorframe, and
gazed down at his lover.

Glorfindel lay sprawled on his back on his side of the bed, an arm
thrown over a stray pillow, and the bedsheets twisted about his form. 
His lithe warrior body was glowing golden in the early morning dawn,
his hair yellow silk on the white pillow his other arm was resting
under.  What was hidden from view, though, were the myriad of welts,
cuts and bruises on the Elf-lord's back that Erestor had given him the
previous night.

Erestor sighed and shivered in the coolness of the room.  His robe had
slipped from one shoulder, and the sash was untied, revealing his
smooth, slender form.  Gazing at Glorfindel, Erestor's mind slowly
ticked through the various changes in his lover over the last year.

They did not make love.  Ever.  This was what upset Erestor the most. 
He longed to hold the golden Elf, to caress his damp brow in the wake
of release as they talked softly of their day.

But this was denied him.  Glorfindel was yielding enough, that was
true, and there was no shortage of sexual desire between them.  But at
the first sign of true intimacy, Glorfindel would lose interest,
concentration, or arousal.  The tenderness of afterplay was still
there as well, although lately it had become more about cleaning
Glorfindel's cuts than discussing the day.

Still, Erestor supposed he had no room to complain.  There was no
question that he was still deeply in love with Glorfindel, and that
the Elda was completely and utterly devoted to him as well.  Despite
the shift in Glorfindel's sexual appetites, Erestor was certain of
that.  His trust in Erestor was absolute and had been proven night
after night.  He was as attentive and responsive a partner as Erestor
could have ever wished in his playroom: always eager and willing to
try new things.  Sometimes, Erestor wondered at his lover's resilience
and desire to push the pain threshold farther and farther, but then
again, after defeating Balrogs in single combat, little would remain
that could rival that sensation.

Glorfindel shifted in his sleep, and a wince crossed the beautiful
features as the movement put too much pressure on one of the larger
bruises.  Erestor mirrored the wince; he'd seen the large purple mass
and could imagine the hurt it must have caused.  He quickly hid the
expression, though, when Glorfindel's eyes fluttered open, lest the
blond Elf mistake the expression.

The Elda blinked a few times, and then spotted Erestor leaning against
the corner of the wall, watching him.  "Good morning, Sir," he said
sleepily.

Erestor smiled.  "You know you do not have to call me Sir when we are
out here."

"I know, but I know you enjoy hearing it."  Glorfindel threw the
covers back and stood up before Erestor, the indirect glow from the
windows lighting up his skin like a beacon.  Erestor leaned in for a
morning kiss, and Glorfindel, as usual lately, reacted with
indifference, neither pushing away nor returning the gesture.  Only
when Erestor slid his hands into Glorfindel's hair, clutched a handful
and pulled did Glorfindel gasp into the kiss and respond with any
ardent passion.

Erestor broke the kiss, despite a groan from his lover.  When
Glorfindel made no further moves, Erestor pushed him playfully on the
shoulder.  "Go bathe and get dressed already.  We are late to break
our fast," he teased.

Glorfindel smirked briefly, but otherwise showed no amusement.  "Aye,
S--" he began, but stopped himself.  "Aye," he finally said, favoring
Erestor with a smile that was all too rare these days.

*****

The two Elves walked side-by-side into the small dining chamber, and
Erestor gave a small smile to his Lord and Lady.  He took his seat
across from Elladan, Glorfindel sliding gracefully into the chair
beside his lover.  Elrohir grinned at the Elda from his position
opposite Glorfindel, and the Elf-lord winked at the Peredhel.

"Late night?" Celebrían asked the late arrivals, sipping her tea while
Elrond placed various fruits, cheeses and breads upon her plate.

Erestor cleared his throat and reached for the sterling teapot, but
Glorfindel's long fingers wrapped around the handle first.  "Aye, my
Lady," he said, distracted as he watched Glorfindel pour a cup of
steaming tea into Erestor's teacup, and then his.  "I had a flood of
correspondence to respond to."  His dark eyes followed Glorfindel's
movements as the Elda added sweetened milk to his tea and prepared a
plate of foods for his lover.  Only then did Glorfindel sweeten his
own tea and fill his plate.

No one else at the table seemed to notice Glorfindel's behavior, which
was a small blessing, Erestor thought.  He lifted his fork, glancing
at Glorfindel, and noticed the Elf just sitting, staring blankly at
his plate, as if waiting for something.  It took Erestor a moment to
realize what Glorfindel was waiting for, and he suddenly lost his
appetite.  In a low voice he said, "Eat, Glorfindel."

Glorfindel immediately picked up his fork and knife, eating
efficiently and quietly.  Erestor sipped his tea, and soon found his
gaze captured by the Master of the house.  Elrond's pewter eyes were
narrowed and his lips set in a grim line.

He had seen their exchange.

Erestor swallowed the rising bile in his throat and cast his eyes to
his plate.  As the Peredhel family chatted, and Elrond's glittering
gaze remained trained on Erestor, the Councilor slowly ate the fruits
and cheeses Glorfindel had placed before him.  It did not take long
before the twins wanted to go to the training field with Glorfindel; a
morning spar was all the brethren could chatter about.  Glorfindel did
not speak, though, and Erestor sighed.  "Elladan, Elrohir, go to the
field, Glorfindel will be there shortly.  Let him finish his morning
tea before you run him about that field."

Elladan nodded, excused himself and Elrohir, and dragged his twin out
into the sunshine.  Celebrían sipped once more at her tea before she,
too, stood and exited the room.  Elrond pressed the tips of his
fingers together while his elbows rested on the table, silently
watching his two friends.

"Glorfindel," Erestor said softly.  "Finish your tea and then spar
with the twins.  When you are done with that, return to your office
and finish the daily work.  I need the estimated fiscal needs for
defense for this year from you."

"Aye, Sir," Glorfindel said, those lyrical, dreaded words like pins in
his ears.  The Elda finished his tea in one swallow, and then
collected his dishes as well as Erestor's, setting them on the
sideboard.  He bowed to Elrond, and then Erestor, walking gracefully
from the room. 

Erestor still did not meet Elrond's burning gaze, but he did relax
into his chair.  He continued to glare dejectedly at his teacup.

"I do not recall placing you in a position of authorityover Glorfindel," Elrond said carefully.  "Or is it, perhaps, another
sort of authority he is responding to?"

"He thinks he is being amusing," Erestor replied.

"He is failing."

"I will speak to him.  I will let him know that sort of jesting is
inappropriate."

Elrond leaned forward and lowered his voice.  "Erestor.  You and I
have been through a lot together.  So, tell me honestly, is there
something troubling you?"

Erestor bristled.  He knew the question was referring to more than his
general well being.  "You have never questioned my methods before. 
After all, it was you who trained me in them."

"And I am not questioning them now.  You know me better than that. 
But, Glorfindel is the first of your lovers that you have shared your
whole self with.  That kind of knowledge changes things, changes
people."  Elrond raised an eyebrow, a gesture that annoyed Erestor. 
"There may be things that you do not feel you can discuss with him, so
I am offering you the chance to discuss them with me."

"I appreciate the offer, Lord Elrond," Erestor responded stiffly, "but
I assure you, there is nothing to discuss.  How is it with your Lady?"

Elrond nodded curtly as he noticed the abrupt change of subject.  "It
is well with her."

"I am glad to hear that.  Please make my apologies to her for any
awkwardness this morning.  Now, if you will excuse me, I have much to
attend to this day."  Erestor stood and, at Elrond's nod, walked
quickly from the dining chambers.

*****

Glorfindel lay on the bed on his stomach, his eyes closed, head
resting on his folded arms, and his body nude.  Erestor stripped
himself of his robes, tossing the dark fabric carelessly to the floor. 
His lover did not move, though Erestor did not make any attempt to
muffle his actions.  His house boots and leggings were next, and then
he unbraided his ink-black hair.

He walked slowly to the bed, his sex already stiffening as he replayed
old memories of the soft, pliant lover Glorfindel had once been. 
Erestor crept onto the mattress, laying his body over Glorfindel's,
his arousal nestled comfortably in the crevice of Glorfindel's
backside.  "Good evening, melethen," he whispered hotly against the
blond Elf's ear. (my love)

"Mmm.  Good evening, my Lord."

Erestor tensed at use of such formality.  "Glorfindel, please.  Make
love with me tonight."

Glorfindel's lashes lifted, and Erestor could see the strain as
Glorfindel clenched his jaw.  "My head aches tonight, Erestor. 
Perhaps tomorrow."

Anger surged through Erestor and he bore down with one of his knees,
forcing Glorfindel's thighs apart.  "No, Glorfindel.  Tonight."  He
reached to the side, grabbing the vial of oil there, keeping the other
hand firmly on Glorfindel's back.  "I have given to you, now you will
give to me."

"I do not desire to be with you tonight," Glorfindel ground out, the
muscles in his back bunching as he prepared to push Erestor off of
him.

The Noldo was quick, though, and within moments he had a hand entwined
in the golden locks, his full weight pressing Glorfindel into the
mattress.  "I am tired of catering to your desires, Glorfindel," he
hissed, tipping the oil awkwardly and coating his hand.  "You will
submit, or you will leave."  Erestor reached between their bodies and
slicked his arousal, pushing between the hard globes of Glorfindel's
buttocks.  He remained still, the head of his erection resting against
the quivering opening, a hand still gripping the yellow tresses, as he
waited for Glorfindel to either consent or demand to be let up.

Moments crawled by, both Elves panting and straining against each
other, and then it happened.

Glorfindel relented.

The tension left the Elda's body and he pressed back slightly against
Erestor's erection.  "Good boy," Erestor breathed, and then thrust
forward brutally, sheathing himself inside Glorfindel in one smooth
movement.  Glorfindel gave a strangled cry as he was possessed, but
Erestor ignored it.  He pulled his hand from Glorfindel's hair and
clasped the Elda's hips tightly in his hands.  He rocked within the
tight, velvet confines of his lover's body; his touch softened as
Glorfindel spread his legs further, inviting Erestor to take him more
fully.

Erestor sat back, pulling Glorfindel with him so that the Elda was on
his hands and knees.  He drew the thrusts out, becoming tender and
gentle with the golden Elf.  His slid his hand around Glorfindel's
hip, seeking the Elda's shaft, and was relieved to find his lover
hard, mewing quietly when Erestor gripped the sticky length.  "You are
so beautiful, pen-vara," Erestor panted, bending over Glorfindel's
long, smooth back, dropping kisses to any flesh he could reach.

He heard a sigh escape the now immobile form beneath him.  Erestor
stopped moving, his member deeply embedded in the Elda' passage, as he
contemplated the Elf before him.  The erection in his hand began to
soften, and Erestor bit back bitter tears.

Glorfindel only desired to be abused.

Anger boiled in him and his hand clenched reflexively, his nails
digging into the skin of Glorfindel's hip.  He wanted to reach out and
throttle the placid Elf, wanted to shake him and make him explain
*why* Erestor had to hurt him.  Frustration and hurt made it difficult
for Erestor to breathe, and it was only when Glorfindel mewed in pain
that the Noldo came back to himself.  He looked down at his hand and
saw little rivulets of crimson running from the deep crescent wounds
on the Elda's hip.

The cock in his hand pulsed with need, and Erestor's sight went red.

He pulled his length almost completely out, the bulbous head gripped
tightly by the vise-like ring of muscle, and then he viciously thrust
forward, slamming his hips against Glorfindel's rounded backside.  A
tremor rippled through his lover and a low, wanton moan filled the
room.

Glorfindel met him thrust for thrust, and Erestor continued to
ruthlessly cleave the blond.  Erestor felt they were like rutting
animals, their sounds guttural and desperate, their movements harsh
and angry.  In a sudden fit of suffocating fury, Erestor dragged the
nails of his free hand down the center of Glorfindel's abused back,
leaving deep red marks in his wake.

It was then that Glorfindel's seed erupted explosively, the Elda
bucking against his lover and pulling Erestor with him into release. 
They panted in unison, their hearts racing, and Erestor draped himself
over Glorfindel's back.  Anger still simmered close to the surface and
he again took hold of Glorfindel's hair.

"Tell me you love me, Glorfindel," he demanded in a low, dangerous
voice.

"I love you," Glorfindel parroted back immediately, his eyes closed
and his chest heaving.

Erestor's dark eyes swam with tears of defeat.  He extricated himself
from Glorfindel's drooping body, and watched dispassionately as
Glorfindel collapsed against his pillow, quickly falling into deep
reverie.

The room felt stifling and he sniffed, fighting back a sob.  He gazed
at the sleeping form, his chin trembling.  "Do you really even love me
anymore, Glorfindel?" he whispered, his voice breaking as he began to
silently weep.

TBC...

Title: Something Special, Something Sacred
Chapter: Chapter Thirteen : Dirt On Your Knees

---

Imladris, Third Age 2033

"Quickly, Glorfindel.  Or have you become so clumsy that you cannot
unfasten a simple clasp?" Erestor demanded, his dark eyes glittering
with annoyance.

He watched coldly as Glorfindel's trembling fingers failed, yet again,
to unlatch the clasp on the sleeve of his lover's robe.  The anger he
had been struggling against for months since the scene at the family's
dining table erupted and he drew his hand back.  In a blink of an eye,
he had struck the kneeling Elf across the cheek, snatching his sleeve
from the unsteady grip.  "You are a bumbling fool, Glorfindel.  A
disappointment and pathetic in your endeavors to please me."

Glorfindel continued to kneel, his head bowed, but his hair was
carefully pinned, still allowing Erestor to watch the flush of
humiliation creep across the proud Elda's features.  He could see the
minute tremors course through Glorfindel's form, but his fury was all
consuming.

"You cannot even undress me in a timely and efficient manner.  Are you
truly what Elrond trusts his defenses to?"  He scoffed, pushing
Glorfindel's hands away from him as the Elda tried to finish removing
the formal robes.  "No!  I have wasted the better part of the hour
allowing you to grapple with a simple robe.  No, I will do it."  When
Glorfindel reached out again, Erestor backhanded him a second time. 
"Do as you are told, Glorfindel!  You submit to me, and yet you
disobey me.  You repeatedly let me down; are you certain you even have
the desire to please me?"

When Glorfindel did not answer him, Erestor reached out, grabbing the
blond's chin and forcing him to meet his eyes.  Tears shone in the
sapphire pools, and Erestor felt a stab of guilt as he took note of
the bruise forming on the high cheekbone, but he shoved it away.  If
Glorfindel would perform to his potential, striking him would not be
necessary.  "Answer me, gwauren," he demanded in a low, menacing
voice. (dirty boy)

"I desire to please you, Sir," Glorfindel said in trembling voice.

Erestor released his chin, removing his own robes as he spoke.  "Then
please me," he muttered, his stomach churning with the meekness he saw
in Glorfindel.  He handed his robes to Glorfindel, watching as he
walked on his knees to the wardrobe, carefully hanging the heavy
brocades up.  "Do not disappoint me before Elrond tonight,
Glorfindel," he warned when the Elda returned to his side.

Glorfindel merely nodded, his head still bowed and his hands laced
securely behind his neck.  Erestor looked down at his lover and took a
deep breath, letting it out slowly.  He quelled the anger within him
as though snuffing out a candle.  Punishing Glorfindel was Erestor's
least favorite task, but neither could he overlook such infractions
and expect to maintain trust and control.  "Are you certain you
understand what is going to happen tonight?" he asked Glorfindel, his
tone again soft and loving.  "Are you certain you are comfortable with
Elrond being here?"

"Aye, Sir," Glorfindel answered.  This time, though, his voice was
strong and confident, and Erestor allowed himself to relax a little. 
Maybe he really was over-thinking the situation.  Of course Glorfindel
was still the proud Elda warrior he'd fallen in love with.  The
borders of Imladris were just as safe under his command as they always
were, after all, and Glorfindel was still respected and admired among
his men.  Besides, if Glorfindel felt he was truly being harmed by
anything they did together, he always had the safe word they'd agreed
upon to put an end to it.

"Stand and come," Erestor called, walking to the center of the room. 
Glorfindel stood gracefully, silently following Erestor.  "Wrists
out."  The Elda complied, offering Erestor his slim wrists.  The Noldo
shackled the pale flesh, and then fastened them to a metal ring
connected to a long chain.  He left Glorfindel standing with his hands
tightly bound together and went to the wall.  Erestor turned the
winch, watching as Glorfindel's arms were drawn up toward to ceiling. 
Soon, the Elda stood stretched tall, his body tight as he balanced on
the balls of his feet. 

A small cart on wheels was set up beside the winch.  A clean linen
towel was spread on the top shelf, and the tools for tonight's session
were carefully placed upon it.  Erestor slowly pushed the cart to the
center of the room where Glorfindel was suspended.  He then walked to
Glorfindel's side again and ran his hands over the bowed chest,
tweaking the blond's nipples playfully.  "You are so beautiful," he
breathed, devouring Glorfindel with his eyes.

The knock at the playroom door signaled Elrond's arrival.  Erestor
slid his hand down between Glorfindel's legs and gripped the stiff
member tightly as he pushed his tongue roughly into Glorfindel's mouth
for a quick taste.  He then walked quickly to the door and invited the
Peredhel inside.  Elrond allowed Erestor to take his heavy outer robe,
but remained dressed in a lighter robe over his tunic and leggings. 
While Erestor hung the robe next to his own, Elrond went to the
wheeled cart and placed a few more items there: a flask of clear
alcohol for cleaning, a tin of healing salve, and a roll of thin
cotton cloth for bandaging. 

The Elf-lord gave the rest of the items a quick inspection, and nodded
approvingly.  He reached out and gently patted Glorfindel's side. 
"Are you still all right with this idea, meldir?"

Glorfindel looked over to Erestor, quickly lowering his eyes before
the Advisor noticed.  Elrond noticed, though, and favored Glorfindel
with a slight smile and conspiratorial wink.  "Aye, I am certain, Lord
Elrond," the Elda finally replied, a blush creeping across his cheeks
as he fought not to return the smile.

Elrond cleared his throat and turned back to Erestor.  "Everything is
ready for you, Sir," he said, deferring to his former lover with
respect in the other's domain.  Elrond then retreated to the corner of
the room, well out of the lighted circle, but still nearby in case he
was needed.

Dressed in only his leggings, Erestor approached Glorfindel.  He took
the small flask and tipped it, pouring a small amount of the
antiseptic into his palm.  The Noldo was careful, cleaning his hands
thoroughly before he took more of the fluid and cleansed Glorfindel's
chest.  He smiled when the cold touch sent a shiver through
Glorfindel's body, the Elda's arousal pulsing slightly as his nipples
were caressed.

Erestor turned to the cart, taking a thick needle between his fingers. 
He looked at his lover's face, gaging the Elf's reaction to finally
seeing the implement.  Glorfindel's eyes, though still downcast,
widened as the silver needle shone in the candlelight.  Neither fear
nor anxiety were present in those blue orbs, but the permanence of the
ritual was not lost upon the Elda.  Erestor cleared his throat, coming
close to the bound blond.  "Though I have helped in this type of
marking, Glorfindel, I have never done so to one of my partners.  You
are the first, and the last, I will do this for."

From the cart, Erestor also took a small cube of ice from an icicle he
had chipped earlier in the day.  He pressed the cold cube to
Glorfindel's right nipple, his own sex filling as Glorfindel hissed
and squirmed, the Elda's arms tensing in their bonds as he fought not
to recoil from the touch.  Erestor counted to ten, and then removed
the ice, tossing it onto the tray.  He dabbed at the damp flesh with
clinical efficiency, using some of the cotton cloth.  The Noldo moved
quickly, pressing the needle to the stiff, frozen peak on Glorfindel's
chest.  He gave no warning, pushing the sharp metal through the
reddened nipple, a wave of arousal washing through him as Glorfindel
stifled a cry as he threw his bead back.

He watched closely as he twisted the needle in the flesh, widening the
hole and enjoying Glorfindel's whimpers and writhing.  The blond's
erection was still hard, drops of pearly fluid dripping the longer
Erestor manipulated the metal.  He brought forth a small, slim mithril
rod; one end was capped with a tiny ball and the other was threaded
for another ball.  Erestor focused on the now-warm teat, quickly
pulling the needle completely through, following it with the bar. 
Within moments, the cap was on the threaded end and Erestor used some
cloth soaked with the alcohol to clean the swollen nipple of the
blood.

Erestor could sense Elrond's close scrutiny, the grey eyes intent on
his back, ready to assist at any moment.

The needle was dipped into the fluid, the ice applied to the left
nipple, and Glorfindel continued to squirm under Erestor's touch. 
"You like this," Erestor said softly, driving the needle into
Glorfindel's flesh again.  While turning the needle, he stroked
Glorfindel's heavy sex, fondling him roughly, and pulling gently at
the metal in his skin.  The blond's breathing became strained, and
Erestor could see the telltale signs of release in Glorfindel's
movements.  He removed his grip, bringing the second mithril rod to
Glorfindel's stretched nub.  "These are mithril, Glorfindel.  They
will not cause infection or irritation.  When the last Dwarven
delegation came through Imladris, I had them commissioned for you. 
When you are healed, they will support lovely, heavy weights." 
Erestor stood back after cleaning the second nipple, admiring his
handiwork.  "Banwain," he breathed. (most beautiful)

Finally, Erestor tore his eyes away from Glorfindel.  He turned toward
Elrond and motioned for the Elf-lord to approach.  Elrond inspected
the pierced flesh, not shying away from touching Glorfindel's body or
brushing against the Elda's protruding erection.  He also took the
opportunity to examine some of the half-healed cuts and abrasions
elsewhere on Glorfindel's skin.  Once he had satisfied his healer's
concern, Elrond clapped a hand on Erestor's shoulder.  "Excellent
work, Lord Erestor."

Erestor returned the gesture.  "My thanks, Lord Elrond.  Would you
care to remain?  My Glorfindel and I have discussed his performing for
an audience, and now seems an appropriate time."

"I would be happy to," Elrond said, carefully watching Glorfindel for
his reaction and ready to follow his statement with a "but" if
necessary.  Glorfindel, though, showed no loss of interest, no sign of
shame or fear.  "Thank you," he finished smoothly.

Erestor smiled and nodded.  He reached up and tapped the quick release
switches on Glorfindel's shackles.  The blond Elf stumbled at the
sudden freedom, falling against Elrond.

"Apologize to Elrond!" Erestor snapped, slapping Glorfindel's backside
savagely.

"I am sorry, Lord Elrond," Glorfindel said immediately.  He brushed at
Elrond's robe, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles.

Erestor grabbed Glorfindel by the arm and dragged him to the sloping
half-table near the side of the room.  He pushed Glorfindel against
the back of the table and bent him down along the slope, pressing him
forcefully onto the surface.  Elrond paced slowly to the front of the
table, looking down at Glorfindel dispassionately, then up at Erestor,
holding the Advisor's gaze for a moment and nodding for him to
continue.

Under Elrond's stormy gaze, Erestor untied his leggings, releasing his
straining arousal.  He dipped his hand into the nearby bowl of oil,
always available for the Councilor to make use of.  Erestor stroked
himself, his eyes focused on the soft swell of Glorfindel's backside. 
He drew his other hand back, striking the blond sharply on one
buttock.  "Spread your legs," he demanded, watching in satisfaction as
the Elda quickly complied.  "Good."  The Noldo pushed forward,
breaching Glorfindel's body in one swift movement.  "We want to hear
you, Glorfindel," Erestor said softly, his voice thick with his
desire.

On cue, the Seneschal began to whimper and moan, cry out and pant as
he was taken roughly by his lover.  Erestor's attention was drawn from
watching Glorfindel's muscles flex and twist to Elrond, who removed
the inner robe he had kept on during the piercing.  A smile played on
Erestor's lips as Elrond easily took his own shaft in hand, leaning
his shoulders against the wall as he stroked himself in time with
Erestor's pace.

The tight, hot velvet of Glorfindel's passage gripped Erestor's
length, and the added pleasure of having Elrond in the room heightened
his passion.  He wanted to show Elrond just how obedient, how
submissive his Glorfindel was, but he controlled that desire.  Elrond
already had wild suspicions regarding their relationship, and Erestor
did not want to feed those thoughts.

Erestor blinked, breaking his reverie, realizing Glorfindel had become
quiet; his body was no longer tense as he was pounded into.

Of course not, Erestor thought ruefully.  He was not in pain.

Annoyance surfaced, and was quickly replaced by a cold, resentful
fury.  He slid his hands up Glorfindel's back, his eyes calculating
and narrowed as he swiftly unbound the golden locks.  Wrapping the
long strands around his slender fingers, he raised his dark eyes to
Elrond, who continued to stare at them with clinical interest though
he was half-nude and touching himself before them.  Erestor wrenched
back on Glorfindel's hair, causing the Elda to cry out and rise up off
the table some.  Thrusting as hard as he could, tugging on the mass of
silk in his hands, Erestor brushed Elrond's mind with his own, giving
his Lord an image.

Elrond nodded and stepped away from the wall, coming closer to
Glorfindel's up-turned face.  Erestor hungrily looked on as Elrond
pulled on his flesh with abandon, looking down at the Elda as he did
so.  It only took a few moments more before the Peredhel threw his
head back, a strangled cry filling the room as his seed spilled from
his body and struck Glorfindel's bared face.

Erestor felt Glorfindel's body stiffen, a whimper escaping his lips
and his passage pulse and squeeze him as the blond reached his own
release.  Elrond's mind touched Erestor's, offering him the sight of
his lover, which Erestor allowed.

Through Elrond's eyes, he saw Glorfindel: his back bowed, his nipples
pierced and tight with the strain the position placed on his chest,
his hair back, sticky white strands covering his brow, cheeks and
lips, and his sapphire eyes dull and sightless, immersed in his pain
and humiliation.

The Noldo screamed suddenly as he came, the vision of his lost and
broken lover bright in his mind.  He fought back the tears and
anguish, refusing to give Elrond the satisfaction of knowing that
things were not right between Glorfindel and himself.

And Erestor was beginning to wonder if they ever would be again.

TBC...

Title: Something Special, Something Sacred
Chapter: Chapter Fourteen : Put to the Test

---

Imladris, Third Age 2033

"You never discussed anything with him, did you?"

Elrond let himself into Erestor's office in the east wing of the Last
Homely House.  His tone was casual and conversational, even if his
words were anything but. 

Erestor looked up from his writing.  "What do you mean?  Of course we
did," he said dismissively before returning to his work.

"Did you?  Or did you tell him what you were going to do and he simply
agreed?"

Erestor's brow furrowed.  He put down his quill and pushed away from
the large wooden desk.  He looked up at Elrond with a resigned, but
annoyed, expression.  "What difference does it make?  What was there
to discuss?  I mentioned it, he agreed, and that was all that needed
to be said.  You asked him yourself -- in your way -- last night, and
he did not withdraw consent."

"Not withdrawing consent is not the same as agreeing," Elrond said
matter-of-factly.

"It is for people like us."

Elrond scoffed.  "Spare me, Erestor. You've written enough contracts
and treaties to know better than anyone the subtleties of language. 
You also know that things not said can be just as meaningful as things
that are."

Erestor stood up and walked around the desk, coming eye-to-eye with
his former trainer.  "Elrond," he said, chiding gently, "you were
there for perhaps two hours last night.  How much could possibly have
been not said to bring you here in such a state this morning?"

"Let me ask you something, meldir.  Are you enjoying yourself during
your sessions with Glorfindel?" Elrond asked, changing his approach. 
He had felt something amiss in that playroom last night, as he was
determined to help his friends understand that. (friend)

"Of course I do.  How could I not?  And, if I recall correctly from
last night, both you and Glorfindel did as well."  Agitation was
clearly beginning to show in Erestor's voice and in the way the
Advisor began pacing along the length of his office.

"There is more to enjoyment than white stains on one's leggings."

Erestor froze.  Without turning around, he said through clenched
teeth, "If you have a point to make, then make it, Elrond.  If you are
here to accuse me of something, then make your accusation."

"I am not accusing anyone of anything," Elrond said defensively.  "I
would never try to interfere in your arrangement.  I just want to
bring to your attention the things that I have noticed."

"And now you have.  So, if you will excuse me, my Lord, I have an
extraordinary amount of work to do."  Erestor still would not look at
Elrond, but the Elf-lord could picture the resentment and contempt on
the Noldo's face.

The Peredhel took a deep breath before continuing.  "Why are you so
angry?" Elrond pressed.  "I felt it last night as well.  There is a
serious well of anger in you, and I wish I knew why.  What in Mordor
is going on?"

Erestor spun around, fury and sadness warring in his expression. 
"Nothing!" he roared.  "Something!  Everything!  I don't know!  I can
handle it!"

Elrond held his hands up in front of him.  "Talk to me, meldir.  I can
help you.  Whatever it is, we can work it out."

"I told you I can handle it!" Erestor raged.  "Just leave me alone! 
You are no longer my master, and I do not need your help!"

His temper finally bested him.  "Erestor, if you do not see to this
issue, whatever it is, harm will come to you -- or worse, to
Glorfindel!"

Elrond watched the coldness seep into Erestor's ink-black eyes.  "I
would never harm him.  Now, leave."

The Elf-lord turned toward the door.  Nothing he could say would cut
through Erestor's anger right now; all he could do was as Erestor
asked.  He paused as he opened the door and said softly, "I do not
have to be your master to be your friend, Erestor.  You know where my
door is."

*****

He was tall, slim, and golden.  The first time Elrond looked upon
Glorfindel's fair face, he had been rendered speechless.  But, while
the reborn Elda was cunning and witty, fierce and loyal, there had
always been a sadness about him that Elrond could not understand. 
Glorfindel had fought great battles, had protected his people unto his
dying breath, but he was a lonely soul.

Elrond entered Glorfindel's office, a smile on his face.  He saw a
flash of panic in the depth of those lifeless blue eyes, but it was
quickly concealed.

Glorfindel had become good at concealing, Elrond reflected.

"Good afternoon, meldir," he said, seating himself in one of the
simple chairs in front of Glorfindel's large desk.

"Good afternoon, my Lord," Glorfindel responded quietly.  "How can I
help you?"

The Peredhel remained silent for a moment, regarding his Seneschal
closely.  After several breaths, he spoke.  "I wanted to know if you
were all right?"

Glorfindel blinked confusedly.  "Aye, my Lord, I am.  Why would I not
be?"

"After last night's events, I wanted to be certain you were well." 
Elrond watched as color suffused Glorfindel's cheeks.  "Are you well,
meldir?"

"My Lord, I am," the Elda replied stiffly, shame shining in the
sapphire depths of Glorfindel's eyes.

Elrond crossed his legs and rested his folded hands on one knee. 
"Glorfindel, I wish to ask if you are enjoying your private time with
Erestor."

"Aye."

"Have you two spoken any more about a bonding ceremony?"

"No."

"Oh?  Do you still wish to be bound in marriage?"

"Aye."

Elrond was becoming annoyed with the short answers.  "Glorfindel, is
something not right between the you?"

"All is well."

"Dammit, Glorfindel!" Elrond snapped, standing up and glaring down at
the Elda.  "Something is *not* right.  I can feel it.  That room was
blazing with his anger and suffocating with your self-loathing!  And
do not say neither of you senses it from the other, you have both
simply chosen to ignore it.  What is happening?"

Glorfindel's eyes were dull, the passion and vitality that had once
brightened any room the blond walked into was gone.  "I do not know
where his anger comes from."

"Why have you not asked?"

"It is not my place."

Elrond stared at Glorfindel.  "Not your place?  He is your partner,
Glorfindel!"

"He is my master," Glorfindel replied immediately.

"I see," Elrond said dispassionately.  "Do you still love him?"

"Aye."

"Does he still love you?"  Glorfindel was silent, unable to answer the
question.  "Let me help you, my friend, for you are both treading a
path I fear will lead to harm."

Glorfindel stood up, his back straight and his head held high.  It was
the first display of pride Elrond had seen in months.  "We do not need
your help, my Lord.  While the offer is appreciated, it is wholly
unnecessary."

Elrond nodded, turning from his friend.  "I am here anytime you decide
the offer is necessary."

"Thank you, Elrond," Glorfindel said softly.

The Elf-lord nodded once more, walking swiftly from the room.  His
heart was heavy with a sense of foreboding; something terrible was
looming on the horizon.

*****

Glorfindel lay on the bed, his wrists bound to the bedposts, his legs
spread and suspended from chains that hung from the ceiling.  Erestor
checked the blindfold once more, as well as the inserts inside
Glorfindel's ears that muffled all sound.  The blond's mouth held a
large ball, preventing all but the intense, strangled sounds of
pleasure and pain.

The door to the playroom remained shut this night.

Elrond's words had played over and over again in Erestor's mind over
the course of the last month.  On several occasions, he had found
himself standing outside of Elrond's private suite, a hand poised to
knock.

But, he could not bring himself to speak with his former master.

Each night, he returned to the bedroom.  Each night was a new torture
for Glorfindel.  Beatings, bindings, denial, humiliation... abuse. 
Erestor's anger continued to fester, and his mind continued to concoct
new and more glorious ways of causing pain to his lover.

Glorfindel was as eager as ever.  His arousal was insatiable, and his
ability to withstand even the most severe punishments that Erestor's
mind could conjure always left Erestor breathless.

Tonight, though, was special.

Tonight, they did not venture into the playroom.  No.  Erestor had
bound Glorfindel, deprived the Elda of sight, sound and speech.  He
had gathered his implements of torture about their bed and now looked
upon the prone, hard, willing body of his lover.

Erestor picked a taper from the bedside table, staring detachedly at
the dancing flame.  This was a household candle, nothing like the
low-temperature wax candles he used at the beginning of his intense
sexual relationship with Glorfindel.  No, this one was hot.  He tipped
the candle, spilling a steady stream of milky wax across Glorfindel's
chest.  The Elda writhed, crying out behind his gag and gripping the
bonds of his arms tightly.

The Noldo continued to drip wax over the blond's body.  He marked the
pale, soft skin of the inside of Glorfindel's thigh with dark purple
wax, watching with morbid fascination as the wax slowly slid toward
the juncture of the Elda's thigh.  The pierced nipples were coated
with bright red wax that had been treated with cinnamon oil, something
at would cause a slow, steady ache under the hardened wax.  He soon
became bored with the candles, though, as did Glorfindel -- who,
though he was panting and squirming with each drip, no longer shied
away from the molten wax.  Erestor set aside the candles, and looked
over the various toys and devices he had collected.

He took a cloth and picked up a clear phallus.  It was thick and long,
thicker than Glorfindel was accustomed to, but Erestor knew his lover
would welcome the invasion.  Erestor crawled onto the bed, positioning
his half-nude body between Glorfindel's parted thighs and gently
touched the exposed opening with a finger.  The muscle quivered in
anticipation and a cold smile crept over Erestor's features.

The phallus was pressed to that entrance, and Glorfindel immediately
screamed behind the gag, his thighs trembling as he strained against
the chains.  Erestor slowly pushed forward, breaching Glorfindel with
the thick piece of ice he had commissioned to be sculpted for this
occasion.  The slick, wet shaft easily slid into the heated passage,
and Glorfindel's cock throbbed and wept as his body was invaded.

Erestor's own length was full and pounding, but he would not rush
this.  He moved the piece of ice carefully inside his lover, staring
at the shivering, trembling body that was deprived of everything but
touch.  All Glorfindel could do was feel: feel the hard, unrelenting
coldness inside him, the stiff, itchy wax on his sensitive skin, the
cold metal of the cuffs on his limbs, the icy runoff from his backside
that slid down and pooled beneath him.  He was a magnificent golden
vision, thrashing as he was shown heights of pain and pleasure he had
yet to achieve.

When Glorfindel's sounds changed from wanton enjoyment to pained
groans, Erestor pulled the melting phallus from the cooled passage. 
He set the ice back onto the towel that he had laid on the table, and
then picked up the small metal disk beside it.  The Noldo turned the
circle of metal around and around, staring intently at the design on
the surface.  This was a step that had come to him while he was
sealing several letters bound for Mirkwood and Lórien.  He bent over,
licking a steady path from the top of Glorfindel's thigh to his knee,
his mind debating what he was about to do.

As Glorfindel moved and whimpered, Erestor's need for release grew
more acute.  His body made the decision his conscience couldn't: he
needed to come and this task was currently in the way of attaining
that goal.  He grasped the circle of metal with short tongs and held
the disk of metal out, hovering it over the candle flame.  His eyes
were unfocused as he watched the flame dance and the metal heat.  In
his mind, he counted to one hundred, observing idly how the metal had
begun to change color, to brighten.

He took the metal away from the flame and brought it within inches of
Glorfindel's bared thigh.  In one of Glorfindel's hands was a wooden
block.  Gagged, the Elf could not call out the safe word, but if he
dropped the block, Erestor would cease what he was doing.  With his
eyes trained on that piece of wood, he pressed his personal seal onto
Glorfindel's supple inner thigh.

The hand gripped the block tightly, the body tensed, and a howl of
pain -- barely suppressed by the gag -- escaped his lover.  Erestor
counted to ten, and then removed the seal, looking down at the red,
swollen wound now bright on Glorfindel's thigh.  He cracked off a
piece of the ice and pushed it against the burn, soothing the pain. 
Glorfindel became limp and his breathing was ragged, harsh.

But, his arousal still laid thickly against his belly, resting in a
pool of clear, sticky fluid.

Erestor removed the ice, tossing it to the table, and quickly stripped
himself of his leggings.  The need to possess Glorfindel was
overwhelming.  He slicked himself with salve and reached up, pulling
the blindfold from Glorfindel's eyes. 

He needed to see those eyes.

The Noldo thrust savagely into the cold, tight passage.  Glorfindel's
eyes fluttered, threatening to shut, but Erestor slapped him lightly
on the cheek.  "Look at me," he mouthed to the Elda, and Glorfindel
nodded once.

The blue eyes were fastened on Erestor's dark gaze, but they were
unresponsive.  No hint of emotion shone in them, and Erestor's
frustration again surfaced.  Even after so much pain, Glorfindel was
not satisfied!  He flexed his hips, taking Glorfindel as brutally as
he could, but not a sound came from behind the ball in the blond's
mouth.  Erestor clenched and unclenched his fists beside Glorfindel's
head, panting and choking on his anguish.  Still nothing from those
large, dead eyes.

"Do not look at me!" Erestor screamed, bringing a hand up to rest
against Glorfindel's throat.  He bore down, applying pressure to his
lover's throat, cutting off Glorfindel's ability to breathe.  The
eyes, so blank only moments before, widened and a spark of anxiety
appeared in them.  Erestor pressed harder, moving quickly inside the
now-hot passage, his lips hovering above Glorfindel's deaf ear.

Glorfindel's arousal was captured between their bodies, the fiction
propelling the Elda closer to rapture.  Erestor continued to
rhythmically thrust his cock into the widespread body and to squeeze
and release the pale neck, permitting Glorfindel to breathe for a
moment before he was deprived once again.  "I love you," Erestor
whispered to the unhearing Elf.  "You have my soul, Glorfindel.  You
force me to do these things to you!"  He sobbed, clenching the hand on
Glorfindel's throat.  "Why?" he asked brokenly.  "Why?"

But, there was no answer from his deaf, mute lover, and his release
was quickly coming upon him.  Glorfindel's muscles gripped him tightly
and hot wetness spread on his belly as Glorfindel came violently, the
sound of his cry vibrating under Erestor's hand.  The Noldo bit into
Glorfindel's shoulder, removing his hand from Glorfindel's neck,
driving deeply into his lover.  His seed erupted from him as he tasted
blood on his lips, and a sense of loss and emptiness engulfed him,
suffocated him.

This was what they had come to -- this was who they were now.

And Erestor wanted to weep for the loss of his shining, brave warrior.

TBC...

Title: Something Special, Something Sacred
Chapter: Chapter Fifteen : Lack of Self-Respect

---

Imladris, Third Age 2033

Erestor crawled onto the bed, his body still damp from their morning
bath.  He knelt behind Glorfindel, running his oiled fingers through
the golden strands.  Glorfindel rested against his lover, his head
tilted down and his eyes closed.  He was relaxed, one leg drawn up
that he rested an arm on and leaning back onto his other hand. 
Erestor looked over Glorfindel's shoulder, his eyes drawn to the
healed scar on the inside of that raised thigh: his seal.  A diamond
with the Tengwar for the first two letters of Erestor's name.

He had branded Glorfindel his.  It was more disturbing than the
piercings, Erestor thought, still caressing the long tresses.  The
wound had healed quickly, cleanly; there had been no need for him to
seek Elrond's help.

"Glorfindel?" he asked quietly.

"Mmm?"

Erestor's throat was suddenly dry.  "I have been thinking.  Perhaps
you and I should visit the Grey Havens.  Be by the sea, without
pressure of office upon us."

Glorfindel's body tenses slightly.  "Are you under pressure here,
Sir?"

"Aye," Erestor said wearily.  "I am."

"Then we should go."  Glorfindel's tone was one of boredom,
resignation, and it made Erestor grip the hair in his hands just a
little more harshly.

"Glorfindel," he said, his voice clipped, "if you would rather not
holiday with me, then we will remain in Imladris."

"As you wish."

The Noldo wanted to scream, demand why Glorfindel was like this and
how on Arda had he become so?  Instead, he continued to slick the
strands of yellow silk. 

A knock on their door drew Erestor's attention from his task, an arm
snaking around Glorfindel's chest possessively as he gazed defiantly
at the door.  "Yes?" he called.

"Lord Elrond sent me to remind you that the meeting will be held in
one hour's time, my Lord," a page replied, his voice muffled by the
thick wood.

Erestor nodded to himself as he said, "Hannon len."  He heard the
page's footsteps retreat and he withdrew from his embrace with
Glorfindel.  "Your hair is oiled.  Now, dress," he sighed, sitting
back on his heels and watching his lover rise and go to the wardrobe,
retrieving Erestor's clothing first. (thank you)

*****

He stormed into their rooms with Glorfindel close behind him.  Erestor
spun around and glared at his lover.  "Glorfindel, this has gone far
enough!  Close the damn door.  Now!" he yelled, stripping himself of
his heavy formal robes of office.  Glorfindel reached for the fabric,
but Erestor slapped at his hands.  "Don't touch me, Glorfindel.  Just
close the door!"

The door clicked shut, and Erestor slipped from his robes, allowing
the expensive material to pool on the floor.  He poured himself a
glass of potent spirits, drinking it one swallow.

"Sir--"

Erestor threw the glass at the wall, the fine crystal shattering. 
"You call me 'sir' once more today, Glorfindel, and I will not be
responsible for the consequences!"

"Of course," the Elda mumbled softly.

The dark Elf closed the distance between them, his eyes boring into
the sapphire ones.  "What did you think you were doing in that room?"
he demanded.

"I believe we were discussing Sauron," Glorfindel replied.

"No, the council and I were discussing Sauron.  You were too busy
making an ass of yourself by fawning over me and agreeing with
everything I said like a trained puppet!  I think I could have
suggested we attack Barad-dûr with lembas and you would have cheered
me on!" Erestor pinched the bridge his nose, a pounding headache
blurring his vision.  "This must stop, Glorfindel."

Glorfindel's posture became a bit straighter and his voice was tight
when he spoke.  "I did nothing other than what I have done for
centuries.  You made valid points in the council session, I merely
agreed with them.  There is nothing inappropriate about that."

"They were points that *you* should have been making!  You are the one
in charge of the defense of Imladris," Erestor insisted, crossing his
arms as he looked up at his lover.

The blond shook his head, a hollow smile on his lips.  "You know how I
hate those meetings.  I have always hated speaking to the council. 
You know what has to be done as well as I, and you are the statesman."

Erestor narrowed his eyes.  "No, it is more than that.  This goes
beyond the council chamber.  You have been deferring to me in all
things, serving me at meals, and acting more like a servant than an
equal for far too long now.  I curse myself now for having not seen it
and allowing it to happen."

"Is it wrong for me to want to do things for you?" Glorfindel asked
dumbly.

"It is wrong for you to want to do *everything* for me!" Erestor
cried, flinging his hands in the air in exasperation.

Glorfindel's eyes became veiled.  "Very well," he said, his voice
flat.  "If that is what you desire.  Shall I bring you the whip so you
can punish me?"

Erestor's eyes went wide.  "No!  That is what I am talking about! 
When you are not wearing your collar, I am not your master, and you
should not treat me as such!"

"All I am doing is giving you the respect that I think you deserve." 
Glorfindel refused to meet Erestor's steady gaze.  "You shared your
secrets with me and showed me another world that fascinates me.  I owe
you so much for that, so much that I could never repay, and so I am
doing my best to show you my gratitude.  But obviously my best is not
good enough.  So, what do you *want* me to do?"

Erestor took Glorfindel's hands in his.  "I think we should sit down
with Elrond.  Speak to him, and maybe he can help us find out why you
are doing this."

Anger flared within the depths of Glorfindel's eyes.  "I am doing this
because I love you!  I am doing this because I like to please you!  I
am doing this because you showed me feelings that I did not know I
could feel!  I do not need your former master to tell me that.  You
are master now!  He does not know you any longer, not the way that I
do.  But, you are right.  I know nothing about this.  So go to Elrond
for the answers to your questions if you will not believe me.  I only
beg that you spare me the tedium of listening to him," he sneered.

The Noldo softened his voice, cupping Glorfindel's cheek tenderly. 
"Of course I believe you, melethen.  This isn't about what I believe. 
But there is something wrong here, and we have to find out what." (my
love)

"The only thing that is wrong is that you do not trust me!"

"How can I when I fear that I am harming you?"  Erestor was desperate;
he had to make Glorfindel see that what they were doing was not right.

Glorfindel scoffed.  "Harming me?  With these petty slights?  I am
Glorfindel of Gondolin!  I know the Balrog's fire, the ice of Mandos,
and you think you can harm me with a candle and an icicle?  How little
you must think of me!"

"Yes, you are Glorfindel of Gondolin," Erestor admitted.  "You are a
proud warrior who would face down the legions of Morgoth
single-handedly if necessary.  It is that pride that I fear is holding
you from asking for help!"

His voice was once again cold and distant, his eyes hidden behind dark
lashed.  "I assure you, my Lord, that if I required help, I would ask
for it.  Of course, you have only my word on that.  You must decide
how much that means to you."

Silence descended upon the room as Erestor considered Glorfindel's
words.  The Elda had been assertive, very clear in what he needed and
wanted, and it was true -- Glorfindel seemed to know exactly what he
wanted and needed, so what enlightenment would Elrond be able to offer
them?  "Very well, Glorfindel.  I believe you.  But, you must promise
me that you will stop this foolish capitulation outside of this room. 
It is embarrassing for me and does not befit the Seneschal of
Imladris."

Glorfindel nodded.  "I promise, Sir," he said solemnly.

Erestor sighed.  "I trust you, Glorfindel."

"I trust you..." there was a pause, and then Glorfindel forced out
"Erestor."  It was the first time in months Glorfindel had called him
by his name and it brought tears to Erestor's eyes.

"I love you, seron vell," he whispered, leaning up to kisses
Glorfindel's lips.

As their mouths met, Glorfindel mumbled, "I love you, too, Sir."

TBC...

Title: Something Special, Something Sacred
Chapter: Chapter Sixteen : The Way You Can't Say No
** Warnings: Big warning here people.  Stepping outside the usual
fluff and fun.  BDSM -- this means there will be bondage, discipline,
dominance, submission, sadism, and masochism.  It is dark -- and when
you think I can't make it any darker, I will.  Keep in mind, though,
that this is NOT a non-con situation, this is NOT rape, and it is NOT
silk scarves.  This story will depict two adult male individuals --
who are both very sane -- consenting to consensual play, however
intense it may become, but always with a backbone of safety.

---

Imladris, Third Age 2033

The playroom door was propped open, as it had been these past three
months.  The large armoire had been hauled from the small chamber and
placed in front of the oaken door.  A weapons rack that had been
requisitioned from the armory and converted to hold a variety of
floggers, canes, and whips was now propped against the wall beside the
bed.  Although the larger implements such as the Fëanorian Cross and
the wall shackles still remained in the playroom and were diligently
cleaned by Glorfindel once a week, they were hardly ever used. 
Instead, the bed itself where the two Elves had once shared so many
tender nights of gentle lovemaking had become the focus of their more
athletic nightly activities.

Outside of their rooms, Erestor and Glorfindel maintained a discreet
working relationship.  Glorfindel kept his promise and no longer
treated Erestor with anything more than casual respect when they were
in the presence of others.  This change in attitude was most noticed
by Elrond, who whispered a tactful "thank you" to Erestor as they
passed in the hallway one morning, and then said no more on the
subject to either.

Superficial appearances notwithstanding, though, very little had truly
changed between the two lovers.  Glorfindel had continued to desire
greater and greater levels of pain in order to achieve arousal or
orgasm.  His back and buttocks were a criss-crossed mass of bruises,
welts, and cuts in various stages of healing.  The Elda continued to
insist that the hurts Erestor inflicted were merely temporary
discomforts and he would not hesitate to stop the session if he ever
felt seriously pained.  He swore to Erestor that being able to focus
on the physical trials that Erestor put him through made him more able
to forget the more mundane stresses of his position.

Erestor was not completely convinced, but would nevertheless -- at
Glorfindel's insistence -- spend time every night physically taking
out his daily frustrations on his lover's backside, trusting as best
he could that Glorfindel would stop him if he pushed too far.  Those
frustrations had increasingly included Glorfindel himself, as Erestor
was continually bewildered that Glorfindel was truly able to gain
enjoyment and release given the intensity of the beatings and other...
abuse was the only word that the Noldo felt was adequate.  True,
Erestor had never broken a bone in Glorfindel's body or made any more
than superficial cuts, but the blond's back bore a disturbing pattern
of scars that, while once beautiful to Erestor, were now nothing more
than a constant source of irritation to him.

Today had been particularly trying for them both, and Glorfindel had
all but begged Erestor not to hold anything back.  Erestor had
reluctantly agreed, and had brought out a long ago gift from Celeborn. 
The cane was about a meter long, as thick as Erestor's first two
fingers, and made from the core of a fallen mallorn.  It was mainly
decorative, as few people would feel comfortable being struck with
such a sturdy implement. 

"I have never used this before," he explained to Glorfindel, "so I
want you to seriously think about if you want me to stop and tell me
if this is too much."  When Glorfindel nodded agreement and crawled
onto all fours, Erestor carefully struck the raised buttocks with the
mallorn cane. 

Glorfindel lurched forward with the force of the blow, gasping in
shock and pain.  Erestor waited to see if Glorfindel would stop him,
but when the Elda recovered, the only thing he said was, "More, Sir!"

Erestor was surprised, but he swung again with a little more force. 
Again, Glorfindel cried out from the pain, but leaned back to meet the
second blow Erestor dealt.  Erestor let the cane fall against
Glorfindel's backside again and again, slowly working up to about half
strength.  He could see Glorfindel's sac tighten between his legs and
knew how the Elda's erection must be straining.  Somehow, that
knowledge -- that Glorfindel could draw so much pleasure while Erestor
could not -- infuriated the Noldo.  He drew the cane back and let it
fly almost full-force across Glorfindel's buttocks.

Glorfindel screamed, and Erestor instantly regretted his outburst of
anger.  He could see the bruise already beginning under the flare of
red flesh.  A fine sheen of sweat broke out along Glorfindel's back,
and he gasped for breath.  Erestor bit down on his apology.  "Do you
want me to stop?" he said instead.  "Tell me to stop."

"Ai, Elbereth!  More, Sir!  Please!" Glorfindel panted.  His arousal
had not lessened in the least, and his voice was laced with more
passion and feeling than Erestor had heard in weeks.

Erestor was dumbstruck.  He had seen a staff made of the same material
as this cane used in combat training in Lórien.  Haldir had been
demonstrating its effectiveness, and had brought the staff viciously
down upon the arm of a practice dummy carved from a beech tree.  The
mallorn staff shattered the wooden arm without resistance.  Glorfindel
had not only accepted the strike with little more damage than a
bruise, but was eagerly begging for more.  True, Haldir's blow had
been more savage than Erestor's, but only just.

"Please, Sir!" Glorfindel whined again.

Erestor staggered.  His voice was shaky, but he croaked out, "Only
once more tonight, pen-valthen.  I do not want to spoil you."  His
hands trembled as he lifted the cane, but he willed them to steady as
he focused on the abused skin of Glorfindel's buttocks.  Only when he
was certain that he would not miss his mark did Erestor, with tears
beginning to cloud his vision, swing the cane like a sword delivering
a deathblow. (golden one)

Glorfindel lurched forward, his arms collapsing under him from the
force of the strike.  Erestor could hear him sobbing into the
bedclothes, could see the new wound blossoming along the line of
impact.  His hands went suddenly numb, and the cane clattered to the
floor.  Was this what it had come to finally?  He reached out and
gingerly slid his fingertips along the heated flesh of Glorfindel's
backside, wincing when the Elda flinched away from the touch. 
"Glorfindel?" he asked, his voice gentle and low.

The sobbing eased, and Glorfindel finally lifted his head.  Tear
tracks stained his face, but his eyes remained bright, and his
expression full of ecstasy.  "Aye, Sir," he responded breathily. 
"Please, Sir, I want you inside me.  I need it, Sir!  Split me open!"

Erestor looked again at the mass of red and purple that was his
lover's tortured buttocks.  The sight suddenly repulsed him, and he
wanted nothing more than to tell Glorfindel no.  The mere thought of
pressing himself between those discolored cheeks was enough to kill
any trace of arousal that still remained in his body.  Glorfindel
continued to look at him pleadingly, though, his need coloring his
face and burning in his eyes.  Erestor had always known that he could
deny Glorfindel nothing, and no matter what he felt at that moment,
that remained true.

"On your back," he barked.  He could not look at the wounds he
inflicted any longer if he intended to do anything else.  His heart
broke as he watched Glorfindel struggle to roll over, knowing how much
pain the simple movement must have been causing his lover.  Erestor
took the flask of oil from the night table, and then knelt on the bed. 
He spread Glorfindel's legs and lifted them onto his shoulders.  The
position would pull the pained skin tight, but it did at least shift
Glorfindel's weight onto his back, which gave Erestor some comfort.

He poured a generous amount of the viscous lubricant and took a deep
breath, swiftly inserting two fingers.  Glorfindel mewed, his hands
clenching the sheets beneath him.  Erestor coated the hot passage
liberally before withdrawing his fingers and adding more oil.  He
returned to his lover's entrance, using three fingers inside him. 
Erestor watched Glorfindel's body and face intently, his dark eyes not
showing the fear that choked him.  Instead, he slid a fourth finger in
to join the first three.  Glorfindel winced, a strangled moan coming
from his parted lips.  Erestor reflected as he worked his lover's
body, remembering sadly a time when he would have found the sight of
Glorfindel sprawled and open to him as breathtaking.  But, as he
brought his fingers together and added his thumb, it was only
disturbing.

Glorfindel writhed on his hand, mumbling incoherent words, his tone
pleading as he begged to be filled.  Erestor gazed upon Glorfindel's
erection, blood-filled, straining and throbbing with every beat of the
blond's rapid heart.  He dripped more oil over his partially inserted
hand, and then *pushed*.  The muscle quivered and spasmed as it was
stretched beyond anything it had endured at the hands of the dark Elf,
and Glorfindel cried out, his breath ragged as Erestor steadily
pressed forward.

Erestor's own heart pounded in his ears.  He had never performed this
act on another, though he had seen others do it.  This did not remove
the trepidation he felt, though, as he continued to drive his hand
into his lover's backside.

The muscle gave way under the pressure Erestor placed on it, and he
was able to move beyond the widest part of his hand.  Glorfindel
arched on the bed, his azure eyes wild as his wish was granted.  "You
wanted to be split open, pen-vara," Erestor panted, continuing to
impale Glorfindel further and drawing his hand into a fist within the
tight passage.  "I have done as you asked," he finished, his voice
breaking on a sob as he looked upon the sexual beast his golden
warrior had become.

"Yes, Sir!" Glorfindel cried, thrusting himself down further on the
hand that possessed him.  "More!"

Glorfindel's body had already accepted Erestor's hand and a portion of
his forearm.  "Glorfindel," he said, his voice tight.  "If I go
further I will *harm* you -- and I cannot do that!  No matter how much
I love you, I cannot cause you damage!"

"Erestor, more!" the golden Elf replied, and Erestor's eyes went wide. 
Gone was the submissive and his master -- this was now Glorfindel and
Erestor.

Erestor shook his head.  "Please, Glorfindel, do not ask again."

"Please!  I need more!"

Anger exploded inside Erestor, and all logical thought was quickly
swept from the Noldo's mind.  He moved over Glorfindel's bent body,
his hand still deeply embedded inside, and grasped the Elda's throat
with his stronger left hand.  He squeezed as he pushed further into
the Elf's body, his eyes spilling tears as he gaze down into the
unseeing eyes.  "Why?  Why, Glorfindel?" he shouted.  "Tell me to
stop!  Tell me I am hurting you!  Touch my arm!  Do something --
anything, but make me STOP!" Erestor begged, squeezing harder.

There was no response and Erestor rested his head against Glorfindel's
chest, sobbing as he continued to torture his beloved.  As he clenched
his hand tighter, he felt the passage tremble around his hand and hot
fluid spray his belly.

"I cannot do this anymore," he whispered harshly, raising his head. 
"I cannot do these things to you."

The room was deathly quiet, except for the occasional sniffle from the
dark Elf hovering above the light Elf.  Glorfindel's long legs fell to
the bed limply, and Erestor snatched his hand from the still figure's
throat.  The Elda's eyes were open and glassy, but there was no
movement from him -- not even the rising and falling of his chest to
tell Erestor his lover still lived.

"Glorfindel?" he called, his voice small in the large, silent chamber. 
"Melethen?"  Still no movement. 

Erestor pulled his hand from Glorfindel's body and sat back on his
heels, looking at his red-tinged hand and arm and back to the
motionless Elf.  Erestor's stomach contracted violently and he turned
from the terrifying sight, emptying the contents of his stomach on the
floor.

*****

Elrond opened his door and gasped.

Erestor stood in the dark hall, his hair wild, his eyes red and his
face gaunt and pale.  The Councilor had lost much weight over the
stressful months, but standing in only a thin dressing gown, his
weight loss was even more apparent.

His right hand, though, was streaked with what looked like oil and
blood.

"Erestor?"

Those bottomless dark eyes, full of horror and anguish, filled with
tears again.  "You must come, Elrond," the Noldo said, ending on a
sob.  "Glorfindel is dead."

TBC...

Title: Something Special, Something Sacred
Chapter: Chapter Seventeen : The Sky Is Burning

---

Imladris, Third Age 2033

Elrond quickly ran to Erestor and Glorfindel's rooms, which were
luckily just a few doors away from his own.  Erestor trailed at a
slowed pace, his eyes vacant as Celebrían led him into the large
bedroom.  The Peredhel was bent over the still, blond form, calling
the Elda's name.  His stormy eyes turned to his wife.

"I want you to take Erestor to the twins.  Send Elrohir in here and
wait for one of us to come back."  He immediately turned back to his
Seneschal, knowing Celebrían would carry out his orders.

The silver-haired she-Elf guided Erestor to Elladan and Elrohir's
room, her blue eyes darting back to the blank, pale face of her
charge.  "Elladan will be happy to see you, meldir," she said softly,
knocking on her sons' door.

Elladan opened the door, blinking sleepily.  "Nana?" he said, but when
he eyes fell onto Erestor he gasped.  "Erestor?"

Celebrían smiled and pushed the door further, stepping lightly into
the room.  "Your Ada needs Elrohir's help in Erestor's rooms.  Would
you wake him, please?"

"Of course!"  Elladan rushed from the main room, only to stick his
head out of the bedchamber a moment later.  "Come in here, Nana," he
invited.  "Elrohir is putting on his boots and then he will go to
Ada."

Elrohir, still rumpled from bed, smiled as the two elder Elves entered
his bedroom as he finished slipping his boot on.  "I will be back as
soon as I can," he said to no one in particular.  The younger twin
kissed Elladan briefly, and then kissed his mother on her cheek.  "I
am sure all will be well," he said, walking swiftly from the room.

The Lady of Imladris drew Erestor down to sit on the bed, holding his
hand tightly in hers.  The Noldo continued to stare blankly ahead. 
Celebrían would have been able to weather crying, anger, fear...
anything but the self-doubting silence Erestor chose to exhibit
instead.  She sighed softly and closed her eyes, but the sight of
Erestor so broken was burned into her mind.

Elladan opened his mouth to say something, but was silenced as
Celebrían raised a hand.  He furrowed his brow, staring at his
mother's closed eyes.  The twin tried again, trying to ask what had
happened, but Celebrían again held up a hand.  Elladan crossed his
arms and glared at his mother.  He went to say something *again*, but
Celebrían's blue eyes opened and she glared at her son.  He shut his
mouth, and raised an eyebrow just as his father did.  Celebrían merely
pointed to the window seat, and Elladan obediently sat.

They remained in strained silence.  Time seemed to slow, and Celebrían
was certain dawn would come before Elrohir or Elrond came to them. 
She offered her quiet support, radiating her soothing calm as she
always did in times of crisis.  But, as the night crawled on, her hope
that the glorious Balrog-slayer was all right diminished.

Ithil was low in the sky when Elrohir returned to the room.  Elladan
was still seated on the window seat, staring out at the lawns;
Celebrían still held Erestor's hand, her worried gaze darting to her
youngest son; Erestor remained catatonic, frozen in his shocked state.

Elrohir cleared his throat and stood in front of Celebrían and
Erestor.  "Erestor?" he asked softly, hoping to gain the Noldo's
attention.  When there was no change in his father's friend, he
decided to simply continue as if the Elf had answered him.  "Ada and I
have taken Glorfindel to the healing wing.  He is comfortable there,
though Ada has made certain he sleeps.  Erestor, Glorfindel *is*
alive."  There wasn't even a flicker in the dark eyes.  Elrohir knelt
down before Erestor and looked up at him.  "He will live, meldir."

Erestor blinked slowly.  His gaze moved from Elrohir's flushed face to
Celebrían's hopeful smile.  He seemed to silently question the Sinda,
his eyes almost pleading with her.  Celebrían nodded.  "Aye, mellon
vell.  Glorfindel lives." (dear friend)

A dam seemed to break within Erestor at those words.  His eyes filled
with tears and he fell heavily into Celebrían's arms, sobbing against
her breast and clinging to her; she was his anchor in the storm his
life had become.  She stroked his matted hair, whispering nonsense to
him as they rocked gently on her sons' bed with the twins looking on
in disbelief.

*****

Erestor walked numbly through the dark halls.  Celebrían has suggested
he just rest, but Erestor needed to see *him*.  He could not rest
until he saw proof that his lover still lived.

He entered the main room of the healing wing, his eyes falling onto
the bed farthest from the door.  Glorfindel lay under several
blankets, his eyes closed and his chest rising and falling.  Erestor
refused to cry yet again, and so he took a deep breath as he
approached the blond Elf.

The Noldo gingerly sat on the edge of the bed and ran his fingers over
the purple line across Glorfindel's throat.  "I am sorry, melethen,"
he whispered, bowing his head as he fought off the tears again. (my
love)

"Erestor?"

Erestor raised his head, meeting Elrond's pewter gaze.  "Elrond."

Elrond wiped his hands on a cloth, and sighed.  "He is fine.  I have
repaired what damage there was to his throat, though the bruising will
remain for some time yet.  I also tended to some of his other wounds. 
What did you strike him with, meldir?"  Elrond tossed the cloth aside
and crossed his arms, reminding Erestor of Elladan earlier in the
night.

"The mallorn cane Celeborn gave to me," Erestor said stiffly.

"By the Valar," Elrond swore.  He continued to stare at Erestor, whose
attention was directed at the sleeping Elda.  "He will sleep for at
least another eight hours."  Elrond took Erestor's hand and pulled him
up.  "You should leave here."

Erestor's wide eyes fixed on Elrond.  "I cannot leave him!"

Elrond brushed a tangled tress out of Erestor's face.  "Erestor. 
Melethronen vrûn.  You are exhausted.  You are a mess.  Come with me."
(my old lover)

"Where?" Erestor asked hesitantly.

The Peredhel tugged on Erestor's hand, walking toward the door of the
healing wing.  "To my rooms.  And I will not argue with you. 
Glorfindel is resting peacefully.  Now it is your turn."  They walked
quietly to the grand suite Elrond and Celebrían shared, and Elrond led
him into the quiet darkness.  "Would you like to stay with us tonight,
Erestor?"  When Erestor would not meet his eyes, Elrond took hold of
his former student's chin and forced him to.  "Would you?" he asked
again.

"Aye," Erestor whispered.

Elrond nodded.  "Then we must clean you up."  He dragged Erestor into
the bathing chamber.  "Strip that gown off," Elrond said disdainfully
as he lit several of the candles in the room.  Erestor stripped
himself while Elrond drew the bath; he filled the large basin with
steaming water and added various oils.  "In," he ordered, and Erestor
complied immediately, easing himself into the fragrant, hot water.

Erestor sat quietly, closing his eyes as Elrond wet his hair and
lathered it with a rich soap.  It had been a long time since Erestor
had been privy to this type of attention by his Lord, but the
circumstances made his heart ache more.  Elrond washed him thoroughly,
not speaking as he scrubbed the grime from his Councilor's body.

The Peredhel could think of nothing to say.  All words of comfort rang
hollow in his mind, and reprimanding Erestor now was not in the dark
Elf's benefit.  No, there were no words to speak, and so he showed his
love in actions: he washed his old lover gently, dried him tenderly,
and oiled and brushed his hair lovingly.  It was while Elrond was
braiding Erestor's hair into one long plait that Celebrían entered the
room.

"Elrond.  Erestor," she said, offering the Noldo an encouraging smile. 
"I did not expect to see you here, meldir."

Elrond chuckled.  "He came to his lover's side, but I forced him to
come back here and clean up.  And rest," Elrond said firmly, tying off
the braid.

Erestor shook his head.  "I cannot return to that room."

"Of course not," Celebrían said, kneeling before Erestor.  "Did my
husband not extend our comfort to you, meldir?"

"I did!" Elrond exclaimed, glaring playfully at his wife.

Celebrían cupped Erestor's cheek.  "Then there is no reason to return
to your rooms this night."

Erestor nodded and relief could easily be read in his dark eyes.  He
watched as Celebrían removed Elrond's robes that the Peredhel had
thrown on in his haste to reach Glorfindel.  It had been many years
since he had seen Elrond nude, but the Half-Elf's body was just as
toned and slender as it had been when Erestor had served under him. 
He sighed, closing his eyes.  So much had gone so wrong so quickly,
and he could not understand why.

"Erestor?"

Celebrían's gentle voice brought Erestor from his dark thoughts.  The
silver-haired she-Elf was sitting crossed-legged on one side of the
bed, as nude as her husband.  Elrond stood on his side of the bed, one
hand held out to Erestor.  "Come to bed, meldir."

Erestor allowed his towel to fall to the floor.  He crawled into the
bed, nestling his head against Elrond's chest when the Peredhel joined
them under the warm blankets.  Celebrían's soft, slight form pressed
against his back and her long arms encircled his waist.  It was a
comforting position, to be held and protected by two so dear to him. 
Erestor suddenly felt the weight of his exhaustion, and his eyes
drooped as Celebrían hummed close to his ear.

"What am I to do?" he finally asked, his speech slurred as he fought
sleep.

The three fell silent as they each thought on the question, but it was
Celebrían who offered a solution. 

"Glorfindel must be trained.  There is no other way for him to
understand.  Since Erestor cannot train him, you should," she said,
looking at Elrond over Erestor's dark head.

Elrond nodded.  "All right.  And whom would you suggest we use as a
submissive?  The only person who comes to my mind is Elrohir, and I am
not sure Glorfindel would be comfortable with that."

"No," Erestor said, shaking his head against Elrond's chest.  "*I*
trained Elladan and Elrohir.  I have no faith in the lessons I gave
them, and therefore, neither of them are appropriate for this.  I do
not trust what I have taught them, and Glorfindel has been hurt
enough."

Celebrían smiled in the darkness.  "There is a person in this bed who
would be adequate for helping train the golden one."

"Erestor has not submitted in a very long time, melethen," Elrond
noted, petting Erestor's head softly.  "I am also not sure it would
help Glorfindel to see Erestor do that with me, no matter how much
knowledge he would gain from the experience.  Perhaps I should send to
Lórien; I am sure your Adar would lend me Haldir."

"I was not speaking of Erestor," Celebrían said, her eyes glittering
in the darkness.  "I am perfectly able to do this."

Elrond thought for a moment, continuing to stroke Erestor's hair. 
"Very well, hervess.  You and I will train him.  What do you think,
Erestor?"  The Noldo did not say anything, and Elrond glanced at
Celebrían, his brow creased with worry.  "Erestor?"

Celebrían leaned over Erestor's shoulder and chuckled.  "He is asleep,
love."  She brushed a lock of hair that had escaped the plait back
from his sunken cheeks.  "Oh, Elrond.  I am certain we can repair
Glorfindel.  He simply needs to be shown how this works.  But, what
about our Erestor?  How are we to fix his broken heart?"

"I am not sure," Elrond said softly, and he met his wife's gaze with
concern in his eyes.  "I am not certain we *can* fix him."

"Will he ever be happy again?" she asked, kissing Erestor's bare
shoulder, cuddling closer to his cool body.

Elrond sighed, hugging Erestor tightly.  "I wish I knew."

TBC...

Title: Something Special, Something Sacred
Chapter: Chapter Eighteen : The Strong Get Weak

---

Imladris, Third Age 2033

Glorfindel walked into the rooms he shared with Erestor and glanced
around.  The bedchamber had been cleaned, the toys returned to the
playroom, and the sheets had been changed.  But, he saw no sign of his
lover, and his chest became tight.  He had to find Erestor.  A week
had passed since Elrond had brought him to the healing wing, and
Erestor still refused to see him.

"He is not in here."

The Elda turned and faced Elrond.  "I can see that."

Elrond shook his head.  "He will not be back for some time."

"Why?"  Glorfindel crossed his arms, looking intently at his Lord.

"Because you are here," Elrond said simply.

Glorfindel felt as if he had been struck in the gut.  "He does not
want to see me?"

The Peredhel smiled sadly at Glorfindel.  "It is not that he no longer
wants to see you.  It is that he cannot *trust* himself around you. 
You are a danger to him, and thus, make him a danger to you."

"I cannot fathom what you are talking about, Elrond," the blond
snapped, his eyes growing dark with his annoyance.  How dare Elrond
say such things about Erestor?  About him!

Elrond's eyes narrowed.  "Glorfindel.  He almost killed you."

Glorfindel laughed.  "Erestor would never do such a thing."

"Oh?  Then why did he come to my rooms well after midnight near tears,
asking me to come here because he thought you were dead?  Why were you
unconscious for almost two days, healing from the damage your body had
suffered over the preceding months?  Why have you pushed Erestor and
yourself as you have?  I would like answers, Glorfindel."  Elrond had
slowly walked toward the tall Elda, and with every word, Glorfindel
felt himself backed further into a corner.

They stood almost nose-to-nose; Elrond's wise pewter gaze boring into
Glorfindel's frightened sapphire one.  "I have no answers to give
you," Glorfindel said through clenched teeth.

"Liar."  Elrond turned away from his Seneschal.  "The bedsheets had
blood on them.  Your throat was almost crushed.  You have answers and
I want them."  That piercing gaze was directed at him again.  "Now,
Glorfindel."

Glorfindel debated for a moment, trying to decide if it was wise to
continue the charade.  "I owe no answers to you."

"Yes, you do!" Elrond yelled, his usually calm countenance gone,
replaced by anger.  "You have driven Erestor inside himself,
Glorfindel!  I may have a wife, whom I love with all I am, but I still
love him!  And because of that love, because of who he is to me --
which is obviously more than he ever was to you -- *I* deserve
answers!  Now, tell me, why did you push him?"

"Because I wanted it!  The pain, the shame, the humiliation, all of
it!  I wanted it!  I needed it!  I begged him for it!" Glorfindel
shouted back, panting as he faced a part of himself he had tried to
avoid since the shift in their relationship.  "It was my due, after
all.  My punishment, my reward.  It was what I deserved!"

Elrond nodded once.  "Why?  What could you have done that you think
you deserve such treatment?"

They stared at one another from across the room.  Elrond's face was
again placid, his eyes revealing nothing of his mind.  But,
Glorfindel's... he knew his face told everything.  His pain, his
guilt, his sorrow and his betrayal.

He looked away from Elrond and choked out, "I killed them."

"Who?"

"The Teleri at Alqualondë, Elrond!" he barked, his brow creasing in
self-loathing.  The memories spun through his mind: the dead, the
dying, and those left in the wake of the slaughter.  "And then... at
the Nirnaeth...  I could not save them.  Elves felled all around me,
and Turgon calling for us to retreat.  To run!  And we did.  We hewed
through the Orcs, but the High King still fell."

Elrond's shock was apparent.  "But, Glorfindel -- you saved all those
warriors you and Ecthelion protected as you retreated."

Glorfindel laughed bitterly.  "What good did that do?  Only to watch
them fall later -- the city in flames, my dearest friend and love dead
at the bottom of a fountain and my King taken from his people.  I was
barely able to save that small host left after the city was sacked! 
And then what did I do?  I died!  Left them *again*!"

"You can hardly be blamed for dying," Elrond said, confusion clear in
his voice.

"Oh, but I can."  Glorfindel lowered his voice, leaning forward just a
bit as he continued.  "I turned my back to it.  A Balrog, Elrond.  I
was so sure that I had sent it to its death that I turned my back to
it.  It pulled me down with it.  I died because I was so sure in my
ability, and I paid for it."  Glorfindel straightened back up, and his
eyes became clouded.  He was drawn back to that time, to his fall and
what waited for him after.  "Námo was not one to forgive.  I had
committed atrocious acts, killed heedlessly and unnecessarily.  I was
afraid.

"My punishment?  Centuries of reliving those choices, of seeing the
consequences of my rash decisions!  I deserved so much more than the
Valar gave me in punishment."  Glorfindel threw his hands up in the
air, his eyes shimmering.  He hated himself further for showing such
weakness, but the enormity of his deeds suffocated him, smothered him
in shame and guilt.  "I left the perfection of Aman to come back here. 
It was a small way of redeeming myself in the eyes of the Valar and my
fellow Elves, but I boarded the boat just the same.

"Once again, I failed.  I lost Elves in Eregion, while defending this
valley, and on the field of battle before Barad-dûr.  Gil-galad fell
while we -- while *I* was supposed to be protecting him!" Glorfindel
cried, his chin trembling with his effort to hold back his tears. 
"And so I came into your service.  I left my home in Lindon and came
here to serve as your protector.  Then as your family's.  But, always,
Elrond," he said, his voice becoming low and harsh, "always this
cloud, this fog of self-doubt and worry, of guilt and fear.  I am
flawed.  I am a disappointment!

"And then I met Erestor."  His voice and expression took on a sense of
wistfulness as he spoke of the Noldo, and he was sure Elrond noticed
it.  "I thought my heart had died with Ecthelion, but no.  Erestor was
beautiful and sharp, cunning and caring.  He treated all around him
with respect, and he loved you and your family dearly.  I worshipped
him, Elrond, long before he took me into his bed."  The Elda smiled at
Elrond.  "I loved him from the moment he first spoke to me.  When he
did finally come to me, asked me to be his, I thought that, perhaps I
had finally been forgiven.  To be given his love, his attention... it
was more than I had ever dreamed of.

"Then I overheard Haldir and Lindir, and I knew the truth." 
Glorfindel spun away from Elrond and pulled open the playroom door. 
"This!" he said loudly, gesturing at the various implements of
punishment.  "He was my punisher embodied.  And after every beating,
every humiliation, I felt lighter -- I felt forgiven!"  Glorfindel
heard his own voice, could detect the shrill note of hysteria in his
tone.

Elrond, who had stood in silence throughout his tirade, strode swiftly
to Glorfindel's side, his eyes dark and his face flushed.  "Yet for
how long, Glorfindel?" he demanded, grabbing Glorfindel's arm tightly. 
"Your forgiveness came at the cost of Erestor's sanity!"

"He could have stopped!"

The Half-Elf sneered.  "No, he could not!  You are his life, his
heart, and though it slowly killed him to torture you, he did it
because he wanted to make you happy.  How dare you brush it off in
such a casual manner," Elrond hissed.  "Erestor broke every rule he
had to give you your punishment, and you drove him to the brink of
madness!"

"No!" Glorfindel screamed, jerking his arm from Elrond's grasp.  "No!"

"Yes!" Elrond pressed.  "He wept, Glorfindel!  Clung to me in the
night, his mind wracked with guilt, with nightmares -- things *you*
put there.  You are not responsible for the Kinslaying at Alqualondë
or the fall of Fingon, or the destruction of Gondolin and most
certainly not to blame for Ereinion's death -- but you sure as Mordor
are responsible for Erestor's misery, Glorfindel!"

Glorfindel stared at Elrond as the Peredhel's words slowly registered. 
Had he really hurt Erestor as much as Elrond claimed?  Had he been so
selfish in his intent that he had made Erestor suffer?  Glorfindel
shuffled through his memories of the past year, and to his horror, he
realized that he had dragged Erestor into the mire of his own
self-loathing.  He blinked once, clearing the images of his dark lover
from his vision.  "What have I done?" he asked no one in particular.

Elrond bowed his head and made his way to the door to Glorfindel's
chambers.  "You have made Erestor pay for your own misguided guilt,
and Eru only knows if he will ever recover."

The sound of the door closing rang in Glorfindel's ears.  He gazed
around the silent, lonely room.

What was he to do now?

*****

It was three days later before Elrond saw Glorfindel again.  He was
sitting in his private study, reading the latest dispatches from
Lórien, when Glorfindel knocked lightly on the door.  Elrond didn't
have to answer the door to know it was Glorfindel; the pitiful
resignation in the knock was a dead giveaway.

"Come in, meldir," Elrond called.

The door opened, and Glorfindel shuffled softly into the small room. 
He looked to Elrond like an Elfling who had just woken from a bad
dream.  "What do I do?" he asked in a small voice.

"You learn," the Peredhel replied.  He motioned Glorfindel toward the
other chair in the room.  When the Elda sat, Elrond continued.  "I
will teach you how to be a master.  Once you learn that, then you will
know how to be mastered."

"Is that the normal way of things?  Must all those in my position
learn to master others?"

"For those who submit only occasionally, or show only casual interest,
such training is unnecessary.  However, these feelings are a part of
who you are, Glorfindel, and you must be taught.  Just as Erestor was
taught to submit to make him a better master, so must you now learn to
master so that you may submit more completely."

Glorfindel nodded his understanding.  "Where do I begin?"

"You begin as Erestor began, and I as began, by learning the Thefn
Eneg.  These are the six most important traits that you must possess
to be successful in these types of relationships."  Elrond's voice
took on the lecturing tone he had once used with his children in the
classroom, teaching writing and history.  "They apply equally to the
master, or Ingor, and the mastered, or Tumbo.  When I first learned
these points from my master Gildor Inglorion, you see, I was taught
the High-Elven names for these roles, and use them to this day." 
("Six Pillars"; mountain-top; valley)

"Should Erestor have taught me this when we began?" Glorfindel asked,
a note of confusion coloring the words.

Elrond gave a small shrug.  "Perhaps he should have, once the two of
you moved beyond casual play.  I do not know that we would not still
be sitting here like this if he had, so it is ultimately moot."

The Elda winced at the reminder of recent events, but conceded the
point.  "Please continue," he prompted.

"The first pillar is spirit," Elrond recited, recalling the tenets
from memory. "Spirit is that zest for life, that individuality and
strength of character that makes each person unique.  To the Tumbo,
spirit means not sacrificing the sense of self.  To the Ingor, spirit
means guiding your Tumbo on the path to their higher self without
losing sight of your own."

Elrond broke off and looked directly at Glorfindel, his eyes dark. 
"You, meldir, gave yourself completely over to the act of submission
out of your latent desire to be punished.  Your spirit was lost in the
process.  Erestor, meanwhile, allowed himself to focus more on what he
perceived was your goal and ignored his own.  His spirit became
subjugated to yours."  He held the golden Elf's gaze until he was sure
Glorfindel understood.

"The second pillar," he continued, "is honesty.  Honesty is purity of
the soul, the basis for trust and the source of truth, both to oneself
and to others.  To the Tumbo, honesty means frank discussion of limits
and boundaries and the fortitude to stand by them.  To the Ingor,
honesty means being always aware of your Tumbo while being mindful of
your own boundaries.  Erestor moved well beyond his boundaries and was
dishonest to himself about his comfort.  You, on the other hand, never
established any boundaries, doing yourself a disservice by believing
you needed them not.

"The third pillar is affection.  Affection is more than the feeling of
love; it is the outward expression of that love.  To the Tumbo,
affection means being dutiful and attentive to your Ingor whenever you
can, and honest when you cannot.  To the Ingor, affection means a firm
but controlled hand, disciplining only when necessary, always with an
eye toward teaching, not punishing.  Through your desire solely for
punishment, you removed Erestor's ability to guide and teach through
discipline, turning his affection into frustration and your own
affection into self-loathing."

Glorfindel swallowed, looking at the floor.  "I am beginning to
understand that, I think.  I know that I never meant for him to feel
that way.  Have you spoken to Erestor about me at all?  Have you told
him that I am sorry for the hurts I caused?"

Elrond shook his head sadly.  "Erestor cannot face it at this moment. 
He is utterly broken, mellonen vell.  It will be some time before he
is ready to deal with his grief and move forward.  In the meantime, we
should focus on you and your training." (my dear friend)

"What is the point of learning all of this if I can no longer share it
with my lover?" Glorfindel asked, fear causing his voice to hitch.  "I
will never desire to be a Tumbo for any other Ingor than Erestor.  And
you tell me he is lost."

Elrond's eyes flashed, and he stood, looking down sternly at
Glorfindel.  "Lost he may be, but until you are waiting for him at the
end of his path, he will never find his way home to us!  Waste no more
time on this foolishness, Glorfindel!  You are the focus here; let us
repair one thing at a time."

"Aye, Lord Elrond, you are right," the blond said softly, thoroughly
reprimanded.  "I apologize for interrupting."

His point made, Elrond reclaimed his seat, falling easily back into
the conversational tone he'd held before his outburst.  "The fourth
pillar," he continued, "is respect.  Respect is having exceptional
regard for another person, recognizing them as the unique and special
being that they are.  To the Tumbo, respect means keeping deference to
your Ingor in all things.  To the Ingor, respect means treating your
Tumbo as the precious person that they are.  I do not think I need to
show how you lost respect for each other as individuals.  Instead, you
each saw your partner as a tool, a means to an end.

"The fifth pillar is pride.  Pride is the knowledge that one is
worthwhile, a respect and esteem for oneself.  To the Tumbo, pride
means never giving up your dignity or your self-worth.  To the Ingor,
pride means creating an atmosphere where your Tumbo feels comfortable
and safe.  Your pride was a fragile enough thing before being
introduced to Erestor's playroom; it did not take much to shatter it
completely.  And for Erestor, comfort and safety became less of a
concern than fulfilling your wants."

Elrond took a deep breath, clasping his hands in front of him. 
"Finally, the sixth pillar is trust.  Trust is the cornerstone;
impossible to achieve without the other five, and yet the foundation
of them all.  Trust is more than blind faith or unerring devotion; it
is the dedication to make oneself worthy of trust in return.  To the
Tumbo, trust means giving yourself to your Ingor with a willingness to
have your limits tested, but also means being clear and firm when
those limits are truly breached.  To the Ingor, trust means giving
final control of the session to your Tumbo through the safety word,
but also means being able to sense those unspoken moments when your
Tumbo wants to end a session but does not."

Elrond paused for a long, silent moment.  "What trust you and Erestor
had for each other was destroyed long ago," he finally said, his tone
quiet and full of sorrow.  "I can teach you how to regain your sense
of Spirit, Honesty, Affection, Respect, and Pride, and I will.  Trust,
though, cannot be taught; it must be earned.  But once Trust is lost,
regaining it is a demanding -- if not impossible -- task."

"But if it is impossible --" Glorfindel began, panicking visibly for
Elrond to see.  The Elda's despair was something Elrond could acutely
feel, and he wanted desperately to relieve those worries.

"He loves you, Glorfindel," the Peredhel reminded him gently.  "He
loves you, frankly, more than I would have believed him capable of. 
He loved me and I loved him, true, but the depth of that feeling could
never compare to what he feels for you.  That love makes it possible,
but only once everything else is in place.  Even then, it will take
time."

The Elda chuckled then, a hollow, mirthless sound.  "What else do I
have but time, my Lord?"

Elrond patted Glorfindel on the thigh, kissing the Elda's temple
sweetly.  "You have hope, meldir.  For perhaps the first time since
your return, you have hope."

TBC...

Title: Something Special, Something Sacred
Chapter: Chapter Nineteen : The Restless Hearted

---

Imladris, Third Age 2033

He walked through the corridors on silent feet, his head tall and his
golden mane free of ornamentation.  Elrond had sent word for
Glorfindel to come to his chambers, and that was where the Elda was
headed.  Their conversation the previous day had been enlightening,
and Glorfindel had thought long into the night of his actions and the
consequences that Erestor now bore.

Glorfindel had spent the night in their bed, his hand resting on the
empty pillow beside his own.  Erestor's scent was gone from the linen,
and Glorfindel's heart ached to be held by his lover.  No longer
punished, just... loved.  He had cried himself into exhaustion shortly
before Anor greeted the day.

The Elda entered the chamber and glanced around.  The room was empty. 
He walked slowly into the inner areas of the suite, but still could
not find his Lord.  He was about to leave, seek Elrond elsewhere, when
there came a call from an room Glorfindel had not noticed, the door
slightly ajar and dim light spilling into the bedroom.

"Glorfindel.  Come in here."

Glorfindel tentatively entered the small chamber, and gasped at what
he saw.  It was a playroom, like Erestor's, but at the same time,
completely unlike Erestor's.  There were no shackles on the wall or
intimidating display of implements.  The Fëanorian Cross was present,
but Elrond's was more inviting somehow.  The edges were rounded, and
the wrist and ankle cuffs were attached to adjustable chains rather
than fixed to the structure.  An inclined bench similar to Erestor's
was also present, although Elrond's was padded.  In addition, there
was another large piece of furniture that resembled a large, round
table propped on its edge. 

An armoire was set against the wall, just as it was in Erestor's
playroom.  On the side of the armoire, though, a dozen small hooks had
been attached.  From these hooks dangled a small collection of
paddles, floggers, and riding crops.  No other implements were
visible.  More startling, though, than what adorned the room, was what
-- or rather, who -- was in the center of it.  Celebrían, the Lady of
Imladris, stood demurely before Glorfindel, completely naked except
for the thin collar affixed around her neck.

"My Lady!" he cried, averting his eyes quickly, his face flushing with
embarrassment.

Elrond walked from the corner he had been standing in, chuckling at
the Elda.  Glorfindel's blush deepened when he saw his Lord, and he
opened his mouth to apologize, but Elrond held up his hand.

"Such modesty from you, Glorfindel.  Have you never seen a nude
female?" he teased.

Glorfindel glared at Elrond.  "Aye, I have, but not that of my Lord's
wife!"

"Well, now you have," Elrond said matter-of-factly.  "Now, shall we
begin?"

The blond's eyes became wide and he stared at Elrond in confusion.
"Begin what?"

"Your training, naturally.  What did you think you were being summoned
for?"  Elrond smirked at him, and Glorfindel felt his heart leap in
his chest with unease.

"But... the Lady Celebrían?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

Elrond nodded.  "Of course.  As you may expect, I trained her myself,
and I have complete confidence that she will be a perfect Tumbo for
you to learn with."

Celebrían spoke up, her voice lyrical and soft to Glorfindel's burning
ears.  "Glorfindel, look at me."  When he still refused, her voice
took on a sharper edge that the Elda was not used to.  "Look at me." 
He turned his bright, worried eyes to her.  "I am not ashamed of my
body, and you should not be, either.  You know how much I adore you
and Erestor.  The two of you are in need of a form of help that I am
able to provide."  She smiled softly.  "Why should I not offer this to
you, my dearest friends?" 

"But, my Lady," Glorfindel protested, "even if my desires ran to those
of your gender, I could never dishonor you by being a lover to you!"

Elrond's voice was calm, as if he were speaking to a spooked horse. 
"Nor are we asking you to, Glorfindel.  This is training, nothing more
than that.  Lovemaking is not a necessary component of such
relationships.  When they are shared between lovers, it is often the
ultimate outcome, but by no means is it a compulsory act."

The Elda's gaze darted between his Lord and Lady and he opened his
mouth to make another protest, but he found he had nothing more to
say.  He let out a long breath.  He could do this.  He could do this
for Erestor.  For them both.  Glorfindel knew he loved the Noldo
enough to walked through the fires of Mordor for the dark Elf, so
mastering the silver-haired she-Elf could not be much more of a trial.

He hoped.

"If you are quite through with your chivalrous display," Elrond began,
looking pointedly at Glorfindel, "then, we can begin.  Glorfindel,
being in command is nothing new to you in principle.  You have
commanded warriors since before the Darkening.  You expected loyalty
and respect from those in your regiments, and you should expect it
now.  You are in a superior position when you are an Ingor, but you
are only there because your Tumbo allows it."  Elrond's eyes held
Glorfindel's as he said the last three words,  "Always remember that."

Glorfindel nodded, directing all his attention to Elrond.

"Everything about this situation exists for a reason."  Elrond stood
beside Celebrían, drawing Glorfindel's attention to her nude body. 
"Notice how your Tumbo is naked while you are clothed.  This is not
only for your ease when you are disciplining, but also serves to
remind you how vulnerable your Tumbo is making herself to you.  She is
putting herself at your mercy, trusting you to keep her safe.  The
collar, too," Elrond said, lifting Celebrían's head slightly, baring
the pale green band to the Elda's eyes, "is more than a mark of
subjugation; it exists as a way to make the session separate and
distinct.  When the collar is off, the session is over.  With the
exception of a small discussion that should be held afterwards,
nothing that happens while the collar is on should persist once it is
off."

The blond nodded, shame slamming him in the chest again.  He had
forced Erestor to blur that line, and the Noldo had suffered for it. 
The sessions had become everything to Glorfindel, had encompassed all
aspects of his life: inside and outside the playroom, with or without
his collar.

Elrond continued.  "There is, as you know, one element of control that
remains in the Tumbo's possession.  That is the safety word.  Uttering
that word will trump all other actions or desires and end the session
outright.  When giving your Tumbo a safety word, you should choose
something that would be totally out of place in a session and that
cannot be confused with another, similar word.  For our purposes, we
will use the word that Celebrían is already familiar with using --
lalf." (elm-tree)

Again, Glorfindel nodded.  It was a simple word, one he could easily
remember.  While he and Erestor used a word in archaic Quenya, Elrond
used one in Sindarin, which spoke volumes to Glorfindel about these
two very different -- but similar -- masters.  Glorfindel took another
deep breath, still not looking directly at his Lady.

"Enough introduction.  Now it is time to experience.  Tell your Tumbo
to go to the Cross, Glorfindel," Elrond instructed.

Glorfindel cleared his throat, his mouth suddenly very dry.  "Go to
the Cross, my Lady," he said softly.

"Glorfindel!" Elrond snapped.  "Would one of your warriors do as you
command if you spoke to them in such a meek manner?  No.  Again, as if
she were standing on your practice field and you wanted her to perform
an action for you."

It was awkward.  Glorfindel felt silly; this was the Lady Galadriel's
only child and he was about to order her about as if she were nothing
but a common wench!

"In this room she is, Glorfindel."  Glorfindel gaped at Elrond.  "You
broadcast your thoughts openly at the moment.  Lock them down, step
outside of office and status, and tell her to go to the Cross. 
*Now*!"

Glorfindel swallowed his courage, and forced himself to look at her as
nothing more than another Elf on his roster.  "Go to the Cross," he
said, his voice firm this time. 

Celebrían, who had bowed her head and laced her fingers at the base of
her neck, nodded slightly.  "Aye, Sir," she said, lifting her head and
walking to the Cross.  Glorfindel took that moment to admire her slim,
tall form.  The Lady's long silver locks were bound much like his own
golden ones had been when Erestor mastered him, but the care with
which the hair was pinned with showed the reverence Elrond felt for
his wife.  Her breasts were round and firm, her hips still narrow, and
her buttocks were high and smooth.  She did not look like the mother
of three grown children.  When she reached the Cross, she spread her
legs along the lower beams and raised her arms, resting her wrists in
the open cuffs.

"Bind her, Glorfindel."

Glorfindel went to her side, closing the cuffs around her slender
wrists and then knelt, binding her ankles to the cross as well.  He
stood back from her immobile body, his own body stirring at the sight. 
She was beautiful, even more beautiful now in her submission than he
had always thought her outside of this room.  He still did not desire
to bed her, but he could now appreciate the lovely image she
presented.

He felt a hard bar placed in his hand.  The blond's eyes fell to his
hand, a paddle now grasped in his palm.  He met Elrond's eyes,
trepidation once again overwhelming him.

"You will now learn how to use the paddle.  This is a large surface,
and it can cause an uncomfortable amount of pain and possible damage
if it is used incorrectly.  The intent is to heighten sensation, not
to cause harm.  You cannot simply swing away wherever it pleases you
and at full strength.  You must start relatively gently and increase
force gradually.  You are aiming for the more rounded part of the
buttocks, just above where it meets the thigh.  That is the most
sensitive area, and the most receptive to this particular tool. 
Strike her there, Glorfindel."

"You want me to... hit her?"

"Aye."

"Now?"

"That would be preferable."  Elrond crossed his arms.  "We *do* have a
council meeting just after breakfast.  I am certain you would like to
get some sleep before then."

Glorfindel drew the paddle back and struck Celebrían's backside, the
contact making almost no sound in the room.

"Now that is truly pathetic," Elrond admonished.  "Do you mean to tell
me that the first time Erestor struck you was that feeble?  Celebrían
has been submitting to me since before my sons were born.  I doubt she
even felt that at all!"  Elrond snatched the paddle from Glorfindel's
hand and swung, the sound of it connecting with Celebrían's flesh
making Glorfindel cringe. 

Celebrían, though, moaned loudly, her hips moving back slightly,
begging silently for another blow.

"You do not have to hit hard, but you must not be shy either.  If you
are hesitant or unsure, you will cause harm without meaning to." 
Elrond stepped back and swung again, this time the paddle landed
soundly on Glorfindel's backside.  "That is all.  Do you think that
you are capable of that?"

The Elda seized the paddle from Elrond, his eyes narrowed and his lips
set in a determined line.  How dare the Peredhel strike him?  How dare
Elrond think that he was incapable of performing the necessary tasks? 
He swung, more forcefully this time, and was rewarded when Celebrían
gasped, a small moan escaping her lips.  Glorfindel grinned
triumphantly.

Elrond nodded approvingly.  "And now the other side.  You must vary
your placement and your intensity.  Your Tumbo's body will tell you
how to proceed.  The way the redness spreads across their backside;
the way they squirm away from certain angles and into others; these
are clues, Glorfindel, and you must be aware of them."

Glorfindel nodded and began doing as Elrond instructed.  He varied the
strokes, the placement, the strength, and he soon found a comfortable
rhythm.  Celebrían's moans and cried urged him, and by paying
attention to her body and her voice, he was able to know when she
desired more force from him and when she needed to rest.  Celebrían's
backside became red, though she continued to press back and meet the
paddle eagerly.

"Lalf!" Celebrían cried out, arching away from the paddle.

The blond was halfway through his next swing before the word
registered with him.  He stopped immediately, his eyes wide with
concern.  "I am sorry!"

"Why are you sorry?" Elrond asked, moving to stand next to Celebrían's
panting form.  He ran his hands over the hot flesh, and Glorfindel
averted his eyes.

"Because I hurt her," he said.

Elrond shook his head.  "Hurt is different from harm. Hurt is
inevitable. That is part of the sensuality. Harm is the danger."

"Because I harmed her, then."

Elrond smiled indulgently.  "But you did not. That is the purpose of
the safety word: to end the session *before* harm is done."

Glorfindel was silent for a moment, mulling the statement over in his
mind.  He then raised his eyes, and said firmly, "I understand."

The Peredhel stepped away from his wife again.  "The safety word has
been given; that means the session is over.  Give no apologies, but do
unfasten any straps, cuffs, or shackles immediately.  Do not make your
Tumbo feel ashamed or guilty for having stopped the session by leaving
them bound and vulnerable."

The Elda quickly unbound Celebrían's arms and ankles, careful to not
touch her skin as he did so.  He was still uncomfortable with being in
close proximity to his Lady in such a state, but he felt more certain
of the situation now, the intent of the lessons.

"Now, before the collar is removed, you have one final responsibility
to your Tumbo, and that is to ensure her well-being.  Examine her
body, Glorfindel."  The blond began to shake his head, but Elrond held
out a hand.  "Yes, and that does means you will have to truly look at
her.  Make sure the wrists have not abraded against the cuffs.  Check
the buttocks for anything more than light bruising or redness.  Verify
that there are no marks anywhere else that may have happened
accidentally and that may need tending to.  Finally, ask your Tumbo if
there is any pain or discomfort that you did not notice.  Once that is
done, you can allow your Tumbo to dress, and then remove their
collar."  When Glorfindel again hesitated, Elrond sighed in
exasperation.  "Do as I have said, Seneschal."

Glorfindel took a deep breath and let his eyes roam Celebrían's body. 
Her wrists and ankles, though slightly reddened, did not look injured. 
Her buttocks were red, but he had not struck her hard enough to leave
any bruising.  He finally asked, "Are you well, Lady?"

Elrond's voice, again sharp with annoyance, sounded.  "She still wears
her collar, Glorfindel.  You forget that."

The blond nodded and, in a stronger, more forceful tone, asked, "Tell
me, is there any pain you wish to inform me of?"

Celebrían shook her head.  "No, Sir."

Elrond motioned to the long, pale blue robe handing by the door. 
Glorfindel retrieved it and held it out to Celebrían, helping her slip
the silky fabric over her bare body.  He unclasped her collar and
timidly released her hair from the clips.  Elrond again pointed to a
small pillow, and Glorfindel placed the collar atop the satin surface.

Elrond took each of them by a hand and pulled them from the playroom. 
"Let us sit by the fire.  I said to you earlier, Glorfindel, that when
the collar comes off, the acts of the session are forgotten, save for
a small discussion.  It is time for that discussion."

They all sat in the large, overstuffed chairs positioned before
hearth, and Elrond continued to hold Celebrían's hand.

"It is important," Elrond began softly, "to ask your Tumbo's
impressions of the session, and for them to hear yours.  That is the
only way either of you will know if something needs to be changed, if
something was particularly good or needs work, or if there are any
unresolved questions or issues that should be addressed immediately." 
Elrond turned his face to Celebrían and asked, "How was that session
for you?  Is there anything we should speak of?"

Celebrían looked to Glorfindel as if the Elda had been the one to ask
the question.  "You have such a sweet and kind nature, Glorfindel.  It
is very endearing to me.  However, I am not made of spun glass and
will not break as easily as you fear.  I would like it very much if
you would be firmer next time.  And you?  Is there anything you would
like to speak of?"

Glorfindel shifted in his seat, his face flushing slightly.  "This is
all very new and strange to me, experiencing it from this side, I
mean.  I am not sure what I should think."

"Believe it or not, that is normal."  Elrond's grey gaze was warm and
caring as he spoke to the Elda.  "Confusion is a promising sign.  It
means that you have left your preconceptions behind and are forging
through new and unfamiliar ground."

"And now, meldir," Celebrían said, smiling impishly, "I believe my
husband said something about a council meeting tomorrow morning. 
Perhaps we should say our good nights now so that we may get some
rest."

Glorfindel furrowed his brow in confusion.  "So soon?  The night is
not so old as that, is it, my Lady?"

"Not yet, perhaps, but my Lord Elrond shall not be retiring for some
time yet."  She flashed Glorfindel a wicked grin and winked at him,
causing the Elda to blush a deeper shade of scarlet.

Elrond cleared his throat and stood.  "In that case, perhaps it would
be best.  Good evening to you, Glorfindel.  I hope that these past two
nights have begun to make an impression on you.  We shall have many
more of these sessions, though, do not worry."

The blond nodded, standing and bowing in respect to his Lord and Lady. 
"An impression is being made, that is certain.  The nature of that
impression is still very much unclear."

"We will talk much more on these subjects.  All will be made clear." 
Elrond ushered Glorfindel to the door of his suite quickly, and hugged
the Elda close.  "Rest well, my friend," he whispered as they parted. 
He then shoved the blond playfully out the door, giving Glorfindel a
cheeky smile as he closed the door on his Seneschal.

TBC...

Title: Something Special, Something Sacred
Chapter: Chapter Twenty : Chained and Bound

---

Imladris, Third Age 2033

He had spent a week under Elrond's tutelage.  Glorfindel had finally
stopped blushing with embarrassment when he viewed his Lady nude and
collared.  His heart was lighter the more he learned, but his spirit
was still heavy without his lover at his side.  He sighed as he
entered their rooms, and stopped suddenly when he walked into their
bedchamber.

"Elladan?  Elrohir?" he asked, puzzled as to why Elrond's sons would
be in his rooms.

Elladan glanced up from the wooden crate he was filling.  "Good day,
Glorfindel."

"Good day," the Elda replied, still confused.  "May I ask why you are
in my bedchambers?  Did Erestor send you for something?"

Elrohir seemed to fidget with the tunic in his hands, averting his
eyes as he answered the blond.  "Actually, he sent us for...
everything."

"He thinks it would be best for him to move into the empty room beside
ours."  Elladan continued to pack various items, his grey eyes
glittering dangerously at Glorfindel.

Glorfindel sighed.  Sound seemed muffled and he felt dizzy.  Erestor? 
Moving out of their rooms?  These had been Erestor's rooms to begin
with, if anyone should have moved from the quarters, it should have
been Glorfindel.  "For how long?" he asked softly, fearing the answer.

Elladan shrugged.  "The way he tells it, permanently."

Elrohir glared at his twin.  "Erestor does not know what he feels,
Glorfindel," he offered, sympathy in his eyes as he looked upon the
fallen warrior.  "I do not believe him, and neither should you."

"He tells us that he will never be with you again," Elladan added,
paying no heed to his brother's words as he put the lid on his crate.

Glorfindel felt tears sting his eyes.  Never?

"Elladan!" Elrohir hissed before turning his attention back to
Glorfindel.  "Please do not pay any attention to him.  He apparently
skipped classes the day that our tutors taught tact."  Elrohir piled
his crate atop Elladan's, pushing his twin to the door.  As he passed
Glorfindel, he leaned up and kissed the Balrog-slayer's cheek,
offering him a small smile.  "The truth is, Erestor is hurting and
confused.  He needs some time alone in a neutral space.  When the time
is right, he will return."

Glorfindel watched Elrond's sons' walk out the door with Erestor's
belongings, and he had never felt more alone.  Though he was trying to
learn, to mend what he had broken, it seemed Erestor was through with
him.  He thought again on Elrohir's words of encouragement and sighed. 
"I wish that I had your faith, my young friend," he whispered to the
empty room.

*****

Erestor sighed in exasperation when another knock rang at his door. 
It was well after the dinner hour and he had told both Elladan and
Elrohir, Lindir, Celebrían *and* Lothvaen that he did not want to eat,
talk, play a game of chess, or come to the Hall of Fire.  He simply
wanted to be left alone in his tiny, cold room, alone to his misery
and self-doubt.  He stormed to the door, wearing his leggings and only
a half-closed undershirt.

"Lothvaen, if you come to this door again tonight, I will--" he
stopped mid-sentence when he opened the door, revealing the Lord of
Imladris dressed just as casually in shirt and loose trousers. 
"Elrond," he said, his eyes widening as he saw his friend.  "I was not
expecting you."

"Well," Elrond said, pushing into the room, his arms full of a laden
dinner tray, "after you turned everyone else away, I figured I would
be the only one you would allow into this room."  Elrond gazed around
the room in obvious displeasure.  "Erestor, why in Arda did you choose
this room?  It has to be the smallest, dampest, dreariest room on this
floor."

Erestor walked passed Elrond, falling heavily into a threadbare chair. 
"Exactly."

Elrond placed the tray on the floor in front of Erestor and chose a
plate of bread and cold meats.  He handed the dish to the Noldo. 
"Eat."

"No," Erestor said, wrinkling his nose.  "I am not hungry."

"That has been your excuse for over a week.  You have lost weight and
you look sickly.  If you do not begin eating, venturing outside this
room, or performing your duties, the realm will begin to talk." 
Elrond put the plate in Erestor's lap, staring down at the Elf
sternly.  "Now, eat."

Erestor shot Elrond a venomous look, but complied.  By the time Elrond
relented, the Noldo had consumed all the meat, a portion of bread,
some cheese and an apple.  Elrond poured them each a goblet of rich
red wine, seating himself on the only other surface in the room: the
bed.

The Peredhel sipped at his wine, and Erestor watched Elrond closely
from the corner of his eyes.  He knew Elrond had not come solely to
feed him; his former master had more on his mind than a meal.  He
sipped his own wine silently, waiting until Elrond would finally admit
to why he had come.

"Erestor," Elrond finally began.  "It was a cowardly thing, sending my
sons to do your dirty work."

"I did not send them to do anything but bring some of my necessary
items to me.  That was all," Erestor replied defensively.

Elrond shook his head.  "Elladan spoke to Glorfindel.  He said you
would not be coming back to Glorfindel.  Now, why would he have that
impression?"

Erestor cleared his throat, staring into his glass.  "Because I have
no intent of returning to Glorfindel."

"Erestor, be reasonable--"

"I am reasonable!" Erestor snapped at Elrond, swinging his head so
that he could at look the Half-Elf directly.  "He is a danger to me. 
And I to him.  It is best if we part."

Elrond placed his goblet on the floor at his feet.  "Better for who,
Erestor?  Him or you?  If you do not have to see him, do you think the
guilt will go away?  Will you stop torturing yourself if he simply
disappears?  Tell me, Erestor, did you ever *really* love him?"

The Noldo shot to his feet, his eyes dark and dangerous.  "I did love
him!  If I had not loved him, had not wanted him to be happy, this
would never have gone as far as it has!  I would not have seen him,
Elrond, so lifeless in that bed -- a result of *my* hand!"  Erestor
shook his head, finishing his wine in one large swallow.  "Of course,
I loved him."

"Do you still?"

"If I did not," Erestor said softly, tossing his goblet to the chair,
"it would not hurt so much to see him."

Elrond crossed the distance between them, cupping Erestor's cheek
tenderly.  "Does he know?"

Erestor shook his head.  "I only visit him when he sleeps."

"You should tell him."

"No," Erestor said, pulling away from Elrond.  "It is best he does not
know."

"You say that a lot, meldir," Elrond remarked.  "That it is 'best'. 
Again, I ask you: who is it best for?"

The Elf sighed.  "Me."

"You are a coward."

"Aye."

"But, you and I both know that is an untrue statement."

Erestor offered a false smile.  "Is it?"

"Why did you not stop it, Erestor?  I know you.  There had to be a
point at which you put your foot down.  What happened?"

"I did, aye," he said as he sat on the bed, taking Elrond's hand as
the Peredhel joined him.  "But, he told me that he would find someone
else to fulfill his needs if I would not."  Erestor turned his sad
eyes to Elrond.  "We both know who would have quickly snatched him up. 
Thranduil is still bitter about my parting with Legolas.  He has
sought Glorfindel's favor for many years, and he would have offered
Glorfindel all he wanted -- and more."  Erestor sighed.  "I decided I
would rather Glorfindel suffer at my hands than at Thranduil's."

Elrond nodded.  "I see."

"I doubt you do," Erestor sighed.

"Do I not?  Not all such relationships are as Celebrían's and mine.  I
have engaged in some that left me wanting."  Elrond brushed the hair
back from Erestor's face.  "All that you have done, Erestor, can be
undone."

Erestor shook his head.  "No, I cannot.  The things I did, Elrond,
were things that *never* should have been done."

"We all make mistakes, and though this one nearly cost Glorfindel
his--"

"I do not mean this last instance!"  Erestor turned tortured eyes to
Elrond.  "I struck him, Elrond.  Across his face.  The day of the
piercings, he was nervous.  I could tell he was nervous, and he failed
to undress me.  In my head, all I could see was how he behaved at the
breakfast table in front of you... I was so *angry*, Elrond, and I
should have not used my position as his master as a way to hurt him. 
But, I struck him.  Said horrible things to him, *tried* to humiliate
him.  I wanted him to feel as terrible inside as I did!"

Elrond listened intently, and Erestor could see him digesting
everything he had said.

"Did you explain how he could end a session, Erestor?" he finally
asked.

Erestor nodded.  "Of course.  It was the first thing I did."

"Did he know it was all right to use it?"

"Why would he not know that, Elrond?  What is the point of having it
if one cannot use it?"

Elrond nodded.  "True, but he could have felt that to use it would
mean he failed you.  And Glorfindel, above all else, hates failing
those he loves.  You know this."

"He *made* me hurt him," Erestor insisted.

"Did he?  Erestor, I do agree that as it wore on, Glorfindel pushed
your limits, but at some point in this whole mess, you surrendered
control to him.  You let his desires and his wants drive the sessions. 
His need for greater sensation became more important than what he was
learning.  And you, Erestor, allowed it to happen," Elrond finished,
his eyes holding Erestor's.

"I challenged him."

"How?  How did you challenge him?"

Erestor averted his eyes as the words formed on his lips.  "I moved
too fast.  I pushed him faster than I should have.  And I continued to
push him sooner than I should have."  Bile rose in his throat as
things suddenly aligned themselves in his head and he truly *saw* what
had gone on in those sessions, what his actions had led to.  "I made
him feel that to set boundaries within our play was a failure to me,"
he said, turning his tear-filled eyes to Elrond.  "I did not teach him
that to end a session would not lessen his worth in my eyes."

"And that was very stupid of you."

"Thank you, but I think I am aware of that!" Erestor snapped.

Elrond smiled warmly at Erestor.  "Which is a start, is it not?" 

Erestor nodded slowly, letting out a ragged sigh.

"While I cannot pretend to know what you are feeling, Erestor, I can
offer my comfort," Elrond said quietly, squeezing Erestor's hand.

Erestor squeezed back, looking at Elrond through a haze of time.  He
remembered the comforts of years long past, before the Last Alliance,
before the world became so complicated.  Emboldened by the wine, he
leaned close to Elrond and pressed his lips against the Peredhel's. 
Elrond was responsive and warm, returning the kiss and pulling Erestor
against him.

Erestor lingered in the kiss for a long moment, then reluctantly sat
back.  "Will not your Lady be upset if she learns of your being here
like this?"

Elrond chuckled and hugged Erestor tightly to his chest.  "Who do you
think suggested it?"

The Noldo sniffled, the first trace of a smile crossing his lips in a
very long time.  "She is very wise and you do not deserve someone like
her," he said soberly.

"Of that, there is no doubt," Elrond responded with a grin.  "It was
she that helped me see that loving her does not mean that I have to
cease loving you.  And right now, you are in need of that love,
meldir."

"Aye," was all Erestor could reply, his eyes downcast.

Elrond pressed back on Erestor's shoulders, forcing him to lie back
against the mattress.  It had been so many years since he had lain
with the Half-Elf, and he found his heartbeat quickening, a nervous
flutter beginning in his belly.  Elrond's pewter eyes hovered above
him, the full lips curved into a gentle smile.  "Elrond," he breathed,
and then was silenced as Elrond brought their lips together for
another kiss.  Erestor opened his mouth to Elrond, moaning softly when
Elrond's tongue swept against his.

He aided Elrond in removing the half-closed undershirt he had been
wearing, and watched as the Peredhel moved down his body and untied
his leggings.  It was slow and tender, every action his lover made was
done to reassure Erestor of his love.  Elrond pulled the tight cloth
from Erestor's legs, revealing the strong, defined legs and Erestor's
hard shaft.  He was already terribly aroused, and wantonly arched into
Elrond's hands as he stroked and caressed his body.  Only Elrond had
been able to evoke such an intense desire to offer himself in Erestor,
and he eagerly spread his legs, allowing Elrond to settle between
them.

Through half-lidded eyes he gazed at his old master, who so easily
mastered him again.  Elrond bent his head, easing Erestor's length
into his mouth, slowly sliding down the shaft until Erestor felt
Elrond's nose brush against his skin.  He closed his eyes and let out
a shaky breath, relaxing his body as Elrond began to move along his
arousal.  "For someone who has not had a male partner for so long,"
Erestor commented, gasping when Elrond suckled on the tip of his cock,
"you have lost none of your talents."

Erestor felt Elrond chuckle around his length, and then the Half-Elf
allowed his flesh to slip from his mouth.  "One may not wield a sword
in battle for many years, but when the time comes, the knowledge
resurfaces," he remarked, snaking up Erestor's body.

"And this is a battle?" Erestor asked softly, his lips almost touching
Elrond's.

"Aye, Councilor."  Elrond sweetly kissed Erestor, smiling down at him. 
"A battle for the core of who and what you are."

Erestor's eyes misted over.  "I am nothing."

"Oh, Erestor," Elrond said, nuzzling at the Noldo's throat.  "You are
so much more than nothing.  Shall I tell you?"  When Erestor did not
answer, Elrond continued, stripping himself, but always gazing down at
the Elf.  "You are a wise and learned advisor who has a shrewd
diplomatic mind."  A kiss to his chest, a flick of Elrond's warm
tongue over a nipple.  "You are a strong and assertive warrior, agile
and dangerous on the field of battle."  Elrond lifted his head.  "Did
I ever tell you how I saw you?  Tall and fell, dark and pale...
swinging your blade, your face a mask of vengeance as we cut through
the filth at Barad-dûr.  I have never forgotten your swiftness, your
ability to strategize."

Every word made Erestor's pulse race further.  Elrond had never said
such things to him.  Yes, the Peredhel had complimented him on many
occasions, but never in such an intimate, powerful manner.  Hot breath
over his navel drew his attention back to the soft words being
whispered against his skin.

"You are a caring and giving lover.  You have never denied me my
pleasures, and you react so shamelessly to my touch.  You were
beautiful and glorious spread beneath me, your legs wrapped about my
waist as I moved within your body."  Elrond's fingers gently probed at
his entrance, and through his sensual haze, Erestor became fully aware
of what Elrond would demand of him tonight.

"You desire me to submit," Erestor said, his voice thick with fear and
desire.

Elrond shook his head.  "There is no submission, Erestor.  It is you
and I in this bed, friends and lovers.  No master, no submissive.  I
wish to take you as I did when we first took to bed together, before
the trappings of power came between us and I am sure you felt it your
duty to allow me to take you."

"Loving you was never a duty, Elrond," Erestor said, running his
fingers over Elrond's cheek.  "It never has been."  He shifted under
Elrond, drawing his legs up and offering himself to Elrond.

Slick, cold fingers pressed against his entrance, and he closed his
eyes, willing himself to remain calm.

"How long has it been, Erestor?" Elrond asked as he slid a finger into
Erestor.

Erestor hissed, the brief burning sensation quickly fading.  "Almost
three hundred years, I believe."  He mewed as Elrond moved his finger
inside him, spreading the oil deeply.

"You have never allowed..." Elrond trailed off, as if realizing where
the conversation would lead.  "Are you certain you desire this?"
Elrond asked, coating his own erection. 

Erestor nodded, and soon Elrond hovered over him, and his thick length
was pushing into him.  He opened his mouth to cry out, but Elrond
covered his lips with his own, swallowing the muffled sounds of pain
as he took Erestor.  His legs trembled, and he felt the muscles
surrounding Elrond clench and unclench as his body fought the
intrusion.  He panted into the kiss, groaning when Elrond grasped his
length again and stroked firmly.

They parted, and Elrond grabbed Erestor's hand and replaced his own
with Erestor's.  "Touch yourself, Erestor," he commanded, his voice
breaking as he moved for the first time.  "I did not finish telling
you just how much more you are."  He thrust carefully, and Erestor
whimpered, his cock jerking in his hand with Elrond's movements.  "You
are a good friend," he continued, kissing Erestor's lips, cheeks, and
neck as they made love.  "You have a kind heart, and you were a good
teacher, friend, and parent to my children."

"I did not raise them, Elrond!" Erestor cried as Elrond nipped
playfully at his nipple.

"Oh, you did, meleth.  You taught them how to read and write, told
them grand stories and played with them in the sunshine.  You were
there when they were ill and you offered them comfort when they needed
it.  You did all that I did, but you did not have to."  Elrond's pace
was steady and languid, slowly building them up to their completion.

"Enough talk, Elrond," Erestor panted, stroking himself more quickly. 
"Just love me."

Elrond smiled, dipping his head down again to take another kiss. 
"With pleasure."

Hours later, Erestor lay curled against Elrond's side, his head
resting comfortably on his lover's shoulder.  He was sated and warm
and happy in these moments after having been loved so thoroughly.  It
had been a long time since he felt that connection with Glorfindel. 
"Do you truly love me, Elrond?" he asked, ashamed of how desperate his
voice sounded.

"Aye, I do Erestor.  From the first moment Celebrimbor brought you to
me, I loved you," Elrond said, his voice heavy with exhaustion. 
Elrond lovingly stroked Erestor's hair as the Noldo thought silently.

"Why?"

"Why do I love you?"  Erestor nodded against the Peredhel's chest. 
"Because, Erestor, there is no one in all of Eru's creation like you."

TBC...

Title: Something Special, Something Sacred
Chapter: Chapter Twenty-One : Your World Is Changing
AN: I know, this is unusual -- I don't usually include an author note
to interior chapters.  But, I felt with the content of this chapter,
it was necessary.  You will notice that there is not a "het" warning
that goes along with this, despite the fact that Celebrían is naked
and submitting to Glorfindel.  The reason that warning is not there is
because I do not consider this to be het.  Glorfindel is not having
sex with Celebrían in any shape or fashion, despite being in a BDSM
session with her.  This is an important distinction to make.  BDSM can
be sexual, it can lead to sex, it can be part of sex -- but BDSM can
be whole and separate unto itself and does not require any sexual
component.

---

Imladris, Third Age 2033

The room was silent.  Celebrían, naked and suspended onto the balls of
her feet, was the focus of the two Elf-lords in the room.  She was
blindfolded, gagged with a rubber ball, and Elrond had just placed wax
plugs in her ears.  The exercise was one of complete sensory
depravation.  She had to rely on Glorfindel, and the Elda was nervous. 
He was beyond nervous -- he was terrified.  He may have spent several
weeks with his Lord and Lady, he may have even become at ease with
striking her, but this was something he was not sure he could do.

Elrond stood next to Glorfindel; the Elda could feel the heavy grey
gaze on him.  "Your Tumbo is completely helpless.  She cannot move
away from you.  She cannot hear you.  She cannot see you.  She cannot
even cry out in pain.  She is as vulnerable to you as she can be, and
you must take extra care with her and treat her with even greater
respect for her trust in you."

Glorfindel shook his head, alarms ringing in his head.  If she had no
voice, then she could not tell him if he harmed her!  And he *never*
wanted to harm the fair she-Elf who trusted him so.

"Aye, I know what you are going to say, and you are correct.  With her
mouth bound, she is unable to call out the safety word.  However, that
is not an insurmountable problem."  Glorfindel watched Elrond pull a
small ingot from his robe pocket.  He held it up for the blond to
inspect.  "You will notice that, though her wrists are bound, her
hands are free.  As long as she is holding this object, the session
can continue.  She has the option of opening her hand and dropping it
to the ground.  Should she do that, the session ends as though she had
called out the safety word."

Elrond handed the small block to Glorfindel, nodding toward his wife. 
Glorfindel swallowed hard, let out a long breath, and approached his
Lady.  He slipped the ingot into Celebrían's hand, and she gripped it
tightly.

Glorfindel turned to Elrond, his face reflecting his apprehension. 
"What do I do now?"

"She is your Tumbo, Glorfindel; that is for you to decide," Elrond
grinned.

The Elda considered some of the various implements Elrond's playroom
offered him.  He immediately rejected such toys as the leather and
crystal phalluses and clamps such as the ones Erestor liked to see him
in.  He could not bring himself to think of his lady in such a sexual
sense -- he could find no desire to see her writhing as she was
penetrated.  Glorfindel definitely did not trust himself with such
intense weapons as the whip, but he was now accustomed to the
floggers; he knew Elrond desired him to move onto other, more extreme
sessions.  Finally, Glorfindel chose a riding crop.  He picked it up
and inspected it, felt its weight and swung once tentatively, trying
to gauge its resistance.  He looked to Elrond, waiting to see if he
had chosen correctly.  Elrond nodded his approval and stepped from the
scene space, though he was always at hand, something Glorfindel was
silently thankful for.

Glorfindel took a deep breath and approached the bound she-Elf.  He
slid the tip of the crop across her shoulders, intrigued by the ripple
of muscles and the soft whimper she gave behind that gag.  The crop
traveled down the middle of her back, and she arched back away from
the crop before she pressed back into it, and Glorfindel recognized
the excitement, anticipation and fear of the Tumbo.  And he should --
he himself had behaved in such a way before things had become so dark
between Erestor and him.  As he dragged the crop over the swell of her
buttocks, he delighted in the shiver that shook through Celebrían's
body.  He drew back the crop, counting to three, and then lightly
popped her backside.  Celebrían cried out, more from the shock than
the force, but her body remained relaxed. 

He experimented with the force and the location of his blows until
Celebrían moaned around the gag, squirmed with each strike, and she
spread her legs slightly as he used the crop on her pale skin.  Though
he began using the crop on her buttocks, he was soon comfortable with
striking the back of her thighs, and even venturing to certain areas
on her back.

Glorfindel stopped when Celebrían's thighs and backside were quite
red, but she was moaning and panting, thrusting her hips back so she
could meet the crop, causing Glorfindel's blow to land on her flesh
with more strength than if she remained still in her bindings.  "How
do I know when to stop?" he asked, his eyes darting to Elrond who
stood quietly in a corner of the room.

Elrond's voice was rough when he answered.  "She will show you when." 
It suddenly came to Glorfindel that his Lord probably became aroused
at seeing his wife in such a state.  Celebrían was aroused; Glorfindel
could smell her excitement in the air of the playroom, and though it
did nothing to stimulate him, he was certain that it cost Elrond a lot
to rein in his lust.

"I should continue until she drops the ingot?" he asked, some fear
creeping around his heart again.  This was the Lady Celebrían, and he
did not desire to beat her until she could take no more and she
dropped the ingot.

The Peredhel shook his head.  "Not necessarily.  Make no mistake: she
will drop it if she feels too much pain.  You must trust her for that. 
But, her body will also tell you.  Her cries may become more pained
than pleasurable.  She may attempt to twist her body away from you. 
These are things she is not doing intentionally, but that her body
does on its own.  As Ingor, you must be aware of these unspoken cues. 
If, on the other hand, her cries become more impassioned, and her body
is flushed with desire rather than shame, then you must honor her and
continue."

Glorfindel realized he'd stopped too long to simply begin with the
crop again.  He turned to the collection of striking implements and
chose a heavyweight flogger.  Though he was used to the floggers, he
had also never used one as vicious looking as this one was.  The
thongs were thick and knotted; he knew from personal experience the
searing pain the flogger could cause.  He drew back, sighted where he
wanted to strike on her backside, closed his eyes and lashed out.

Once Glorfindel became comfortable with the new implement, and he
struck at the she-Elf's skin with more confidence, Celebrían began to
react favorably to the treatment.  She moaned loudly around the gag,
writhed in her bonds, and panted in need.  Even trussed up as she was,
blind and deaf to her surroundings, she reveled in the pain Glorfindel
offered her, and it was a reaction Glorfindel was unsure of.

As her flesh darkened further, both from his blows as well as desire,
Glorfindel found himself hesitating once again, but this time it was
out of her intense reaction to his ministrations.

Elrond approached his side, his arms crossed and a look of annoyance
in those wise, grey eyes.  "Why are you stopping, Glorfindel?" he
demanded.

Glorfindel didn't immediately respond.  He wasn't sure of what to say,
and he felt the flush of embarrassment cross his features.  The Elda
was not so obtuse as to not know what his Lady was nearing, and the
knowledge that *he* had brought her close to that release brought out
a sense of shame in him.

"You do your Tumbo a disservice to stop now," Elrond said, his voice
low and his dissatisfaction dripping from his words.

Glorfindel turned to Elrond, his own annoyance apparent.  "Let us be
frank, Elrond," he began.  "She is *your* Tumbo, not mine.  You have
lent her to me for training, and for that I am grateful."  He looked
away then, pointing blindly in Celebrían's direction.  "But it is not
my place to continue in this manner, my Lord," he said hoarsely.

Elrond laid his hand on Glorfindel's shoulder and smiled
apologetically.  "I understand, my friend," he said, holding out his
other hand for the flogger. 

The Elda stepped out of the session space, a sigh of relief escaping
his lips as he looked on with interest.  His body may not be awoken by
the female body, but what his Lord and Lady showed him was beautiful
nonetheless.

Elrond did not hesitate.  He started to firmly strike Celebrían, long
sweeping strokes with the flogger, but the movements were quick and
calculated.  Celebrían immediately, and much more quickly than
Glorfindel thought possible, started to convulse with orgasm.  The
Elda's eyes never left the pair in the center of the room.  Elrond's
eyes sparkled in the low light, his face flushed and his demeanor
confident as he slowed and softened the blows to his wife's body. 

Celebrían, though, was all silver and ivory in Glorfindel's eyes.  Her
body trembled with release, and it fascinated Glorfindel to see how
the female body looked in such ecstasy.  He had never been intimate
with a woman, had never felt that attraction to them, so this was his
first opportunity to see how the blush of release crept from her
peaked breasts to her damp hair.  All through her release, Elrond
continued to strike her.  He no longer hit with such force, and the
action reminded him of how, as he came in Erestor's hand, the dark Elf
would slow his stroke within him, but never actually stop.  The gentle
flogging continued as the she-Elf slowly recovered from her potent and
sudden release.

The Half-Elf stepped away from Celebrían and motioned for Glorfindel
to complete the session.  Glorfindel nodded, composing himself as he
approached Celebrían's prone form.  He removed her gag first, and then
revealed her eyes and opened her ears.  The Elda took the ingot from
her hand; he unbound her hands from the shackles, absently rubbing his
thumbs over pink lines left by the shackles on the inside of her
wrists.  Celebrían stumbled against him as she was released from the
bonds, and she was still flushed with release, her breath coming
heavily.  Glorfindel continued to quickly check her body, and he
winced as he noticed her flesh was rather bruised.  She did not seem
harmed or ashamed, so the Elda unclasped the collar from her neck. 

"Thank you, Glorfindel," she said softly, but turned from him and
walked to Elrond.  Glorfindel watched with a small smile as she kissed
Elrond quickly on the lips.  "And thank *you*, my Lord.  That was
lovely."

Glorfindel was taken aback at her statement.  "You knew it was
Elrond?"

Celebrían snaked her arm behind Elrond's back, smiling impishly at
Glorfindel as she leaned against her husband.  Her silver eyes turned
to Glorfindel, and he was again struck dumb by her lack of modesty as
she still stood before him nude.  "No offense to you, meldir, but
Elrond knows precisely how to evoke any reaction he chooses from me. 
And I, in turn, know his style and form."

Elrond handed the chuckling she-Elf a silken robe and motioned for
them to move into the main bedchamber.  He guided Celebrían toward the
chairs by the fire, his hand resting affectionately on her lower back.

"I am, I confess, somewhat relieved to have seen this," Glorfindel
began as he sat across from Elrond and Celebrían.  "On more than one
occasion with Erestor, I had..." as he spoke, he felt his cheeks color
with embarrassment, though he had thought he was long past such
diffidence with his Lord and Lady, "achieved release by the beating
alone.  I had feared that this made me somehow... less than normal."

Elrond sipped at his wine thoughtfully.  "Because you reached sexual
climax without direct stimulation?"

"Aye."

The Half-Elf put his glass aside, as he had in many of these after
session discussions, and Glorfindel settled into his chair for the
lecture he knew Elrond was about to deliver.

"There is more to the act of physical love than simple contact with a
small list of body parts.  With time and the proper loving emotion
fueling it, the entire body can be taught to bring out such feelings
of rapture upon command.  That, it has been said, is the basis and
purpose of the relationship between Ingor and Tumbo.  It is not
grounded in sexuality, but in *sensuality* and the exploration of
extreme sensation.  Whether in causing the sensation or in receiving
it, the intent is to expand the awareness of pleasure and pain beyond
the confines of their more obvious locations."

Glorfindel nodded.  "I suppose that, given enough time, one could view
any pain as pleasurable, then?"

Celebrían giggled slightly as she shook her head.  "By no means!  The
intent and emotion that fuels the pain makes the difference.  When I
poke my finger during needlework, for instance, it is anything but
pleasurable."

"A pity.  I could have ordered the training for all my men,
otherwise."  Glorfindel winked at his Lady, feeling the tension flow
from his body as they spoke.

Elrond joined in Celebrían's laughter.  "Thank the Valar that we have
changed your mind!  I could not imagine seeing the barracks
transformed into a giant playroom!  It is supposed to be for *play*,
after all."

The three friends continued to chat, and Glorfindel forgot for a time
about the lonely room waiting for him.  But, when Celebrían yawned for
the third time, Glorfindel stood and took his leave, promising to
return the in three days time for their next lesson.

*****

Erestor walked through the quiet halls.  He had put aside his work,
choosing to return to the twins' room, as he could not concentrate on
the contracts Thranduil had sent for revision.  His head throbbed with
the beginnings of a headache, and his heart hurt for the lack of its
mate.  But, he pushed those thoughts aside, refusing to dwell on the
golden Elf.

Life would continue, even if he never found such complete love as he
had shared with the Balrog-slayer again.

As he turned the corner, the twins' door just a few steps from where
he stood, his eyes fell onto the tall, lithe form of Glorfindel
exiting Elrond's chambers.  Their eyes met as they stood across the
hall from each other, and Erestor's heart leapt in his chest.  He
wanted to run to that Elf, to be held and loved by him as he had once
been, but as Glorfindel took a step toward him, Erestor panicked.

He looked away from the glittering azure eyes and knocked on Elladan
and Elrohir's door.  Elladan appeared after only a moment, and he
invited Erestor in, and his eyes caught Glorfindel's.  He glared at
the Elda and slammed the door, preventing the Elda from seeing Erestor
embraced by his twin.

Elladan took Erestor's hand, throwing an intense look to his brother
as he drew the Noldo to the bed.  Elrohir shook his head, but Elladan
ignored him.  The younger twin sighed and joined his old tutor and his
lover on the mattress, aiding in removing the clothing the three of
them wore.

Elrohir knew what Elladan attempted to do by inviting Erestor into
their bed each night.  He also knew that they could never remove the
memory of the golden Elf or the hurt Glorfindel had inflicted in his
ignorance.  But, he still kissed and touched, comforted and loved
Erestor as best he could.  He would watch as Erestor found his
pleasure in Elladan's body, and as he was taken by Elladan, Erestor
would stroke himself, forcing a second -- sometime third -- orgasm
from his exhausted body.

And that was the point.

Exhaustion.  Sexual fulfillment.  Erestor would take and come and take
again, only so that, when they finished, he would collapse into a
dreamless sleep entangled with Elrond's twin sons.

But, Elrohir also knew Erestor's efforts were in vain.  No matter how
much they fucked, Erestor always thrashed in his sleep, always woke
with tears in his eyes, always looked in futile hope when his eyes
cleared and he greeted a new day.

They were not Glorfindel.

TBC...

Title: Something Special, Something Sacred
Chapter: Chapter Twenty-Two : The Storm Is Breaking

---

Imladris, Third Age 2034

"No, Elladan.  I will not do this."  Erestor turned away from
Elrohir's bound form, hiding behind his long, raven locks.  "I can
*not* do this," he added.

It had been six turns of the moon since that terrible night, and five
turns had been spent in the twins' bed.  Elrond had loved him when he
needed it the most, but Elladan and Elrohir gave him what he truly
desired: oblivion.

That was, they had *given* him what he desired.  Now Elladan wanted to
change the rules.  Erestor was not about to allow his student to now
give the tutor lessons.  The time for lessons was long passed, and
Erestor did not feel he wanted to walk back into that dark shadow of
his life.  He was content to work and come in the evenings to their
rooms.  It was routine he enjoyed and he did not want to change it. 
Not now, not ever.

"Erestor," Elladan said, his tone sharp.  "You cannot pretend that
part of you no longer exists!  You told me, in those long ago lessons,
that one can *never* suppress what they are.  To do so was a betrayal
of one's self.  That is what you do now.  You punish yourself as
Glorfindel wanted you to punish him.  You and he have moped about this
house long enough!  Now, master Elrohir or leave the room."  Elladan's
pewter eyes blazed as he shouted at Erestor, and the Noldo found
himself quite impressed with the adult Elladan had become.

Still, he shook his head.  "I... I cannot, Elladan."

Elladan crossed his arms over his bare chest.  A ring pierced his left
nipple, the dark bead nestled against a scarlet one sparkling in the
light.  He remembered the night he helped Elrohir pierce his twin,
marking him as his -- mark *them* as Erestor's.  Elrohir bore a
matching ring in his right nipple, and it used to be a comfort to him. 
But now, Erestor saw it as one more reminder of how he failed.

"You will," Elladan countered.  "You are our Ingor -- as you always
have been.  We love and trust you, and we have our boundaries and know
yours.  We respect you and you respect us.  Now, be master in this
room or leave it."

Erestor knew Elladan was serious, the gleam in the Half-Elf's eye
always made Erestor think of the nights Elrond used to wield the whip. 
He looked into himself, sought that part of his being he had tried to
hide for the long months since his parting with the golden Elf, and
found that urge still there.  The urge to master, to bring pleasure
and pain, to show his Tumbo the heights of ecstasy they never knew
could exist.

It was then he did something he never thought he would before the
beautiful Peredhel twins.

He showed his weakness.

"I am afraid," he choked out, darting wide eyes from Elrohir's prone,
bound form on the bed to Elladan's sharp, piercing gaze.

Elladan let his arms fall to his sides and smiled.  "We know.  But, as
you once told us, the only way to move beyond that fear is to face it. 
You will not harm him, Erestor."  Elladan's face darkened.  "*I* will
not allow it."

Erestor was silent for several moments as he thought on Elladan's
words.  Could he find it in himself to master someone again, when he
had been so thoroughly mastered by his own submissive?

He felt his fear melt slightly and he smirked at Elladan.  "What would
you like to do then, pen neth?" (young one)

Elladan took his hand, drawing Erestor to the bed.  "I desire to do as
we always did when you grew bored with your playmates and we had been
naughty children, herdir," Elladan teased.  Erestor then watched
Elladan turn hungry, eager eyes to his twin, still nude and bound
across the mattress.  "I want to see him squirm," Elladan rasped out,
and Erestor noted how Elrohir's arousal grew larger with each word
from his brother.  "I want to hear him scream our names, Erestor."
(master)

"Unbind him, then, Elladan, so that I may reacquaint your sibling with
my hand."  As Elladan did as Erestor bid, the Noldo shed his robes and
leggings, coming to the edge of the bed as naked as Elrohir was.  He
did not have to look or order Elladan to bare himself, the young
master knew what Erestor liked and wanted in a session with them.

He turned his eyes to Elrohir, his heart racing with anticipation. 
"Athra," he commanded, his voice low and rough. (across)

His dark eyes followed Elrohir's movements.  The Peredhel was fluid
and graceful -- it had always been a virtue of Elrohir's that Elladan
had never been able to achieve.  Elladan was born to master, and
Erestor had taken great strides to ease the elder twin's worry when
Elladan found he could not perform as elegantly as Elrohir.  No,
Elladan's talents had been much different.  The elder Half-Elf's
talents were in his stamina and his enthusiasm, his ability to wield
whip, crop or cane with frightening efficiency and little error.

The twins were a marvel to watch as Ingor and Tumbo, a ballet Erestor
had helped to orchestrate so many years ago.  And he was once again
privy to the acts the twins still engaged in.  Erestor's arousal
throbbed as Elrohir laid his supple body across his lap, the younger
twin's erection damply brushing against Erestor's thigh.

Erestor caressed the heated skin of Elrohir's backside, and the
younger twin squirmed against him, moaning.  Erestor startled as he
saw the reason why.  Before Elladan had bound up his brother, he had
inserted a phallus into Elrohir's rear passage and fastened it in
place with a thin length of hithlain around his waist.  While not an
overly large implement, the phallus, being bound, gave a constant
presence that no doubt shifted between pleasure and discomfort. 
Erestor could not resist smiling at the guile that Elladan had
discovered within himself.

Elladan appeared at Erestor's side, aroused as he watched his brother
squirm on their tutor's lap.  Erestor thought for a moment and decided
that, instead of a gag for the younger Peredhel, his brother's cock
would be perfect to stifle any loud cries.  "Elrohir?" he said,
drawing his hand back, poised to strike Elrohir's raised backside. 
"Open your mouth and please your brother.  You know how much I dislike
excessive noise."

Elladan closed the distance between himself and Erestor, and Elrohir
did as he was told, obediently drawing his older twin's length into
his mouth.  Elladan placed a casual hand on Erestor's shoulder, his
hips pressing against the elder Noldo's thigh.  Elrohir groaned as the
heat of Elladan's erection added to the near-unbearable onslaught of
sensation.

The musky scent of the Peredhil's arousal was intoxicating to Erestor,
and for a time, it was all that mattered.  He began spanking Elrohir's
backside as he might a petulant child, his palm striking firmly and
repeatedly.  His hand stung with every blow to the tight, pale flesh,
but he continued regardless of the increasing pain to his hand.  His
left hand lay across Elrohir's shoulders, holding the younger twin
firmly across his lap.  With each strike, he felt Elrohir's muscles
clench, tightening around the harnessed phallus, and Elrohir's length
throb against his thigh.

Erestor began to forget everything and lose himself in his desire as
his own arousal matched that of his younger partners.  Elladan seemed
to notice instantly, and slid the hand on Erestor's shoulder down his
tutor's chest to grip the firm shaft.  His slender fingers played
along the tight column, coaxing a pleasured sigh from Erestor's lips. 

The Councilor increased the pace of his strikes to Elrohir's backside,
and both twins responded immediately: Elrohir from the renewed assault
on his ass, and Elladan from the heightened vigor with which his
brother pleasured his cock.  A short few moments later, Elladan threw
his head back with an impassioned gasp.  His hands flew to Elrohir's
hair, pulling tightly on the dark locks as he spilled deeply into his
twin's eager mouth.  Erestor smiled wistfully up at Elladan, admiring
the look of rapture on the elder Peredhel's face.

Erestor stopped striking Elrohir's buttocks, resting his hand on the
enflamed flesh.  His dark eyes remained fixed on Elladan, slowly
slipping down to where his sated sex was slipping from Elrohir's
glistening lips.  For a moment, he felt a pang in his heart; the look
of utter love and devotion shining from Elrohir's face as he licked
the remainder of Elladan's seed from his mouth reminded him of
Glorfindel.  He missed having that devotion directed toward him...  He
pushed the thoughts from his mind quickly, patting the red flesh under
his hand. 

"Erin dalaf," Elladan commanded, and Elrohir dropped from Erestor's
lap to the floor.  Elrohir rested on his knees, his hands on his
spread thighs, and his back straight and tall.  His eyes, though, were
focused on Erestor's erection, sticky with his fluids, coaxed from his
body by Elladan's hands. (on the floor)

Elladan appeared behind Elrohir, his stormy gaze capturing Erestor's. 
He lifted a multi-thonged flogger, lifted an eyebrow at Erestor,
asking the older master in the room if it was acceptable.  Erestor
barely nodded his head, and Elladan drew the flogger back and struck
his twin's back.  Elrohir's mouth opened in a silent cry, his eyes
slipping shut by the second blow, and by the fifth strike, his cheeks
were flushed and his body rocked in rhythm with the flogger.

Erestor knew Elrohir was capable of release from the flogger's kiss
alone, and he marveled at how well Elladan was able to keep his
brother on that edge of ecstasy.

"Pleasure Erestor as you did me, Elrohir," Elladan ordered, his
motions graceful and steady as he flogged his twin.

Those full, wet lips parted and Elrohir's tongue darted out, gathering
the beads of moisture from the tip of Erestor's length.  Erestor's
hissed, leaning back slightly on his hands and thrusting his hips
forward.  Elrohir dutifully bent his head, drawing Erestor's cock into
his mouth.  Steady suction, warm wetness pulled moans from Erestor's
lips.  Elrohir had always been very talented with his tongue; the
younger twin could drive all thoughts of lovers, work, and heartache
from any mind.

Small grunts and whimpers traveled up his shaft, and Erestor slowly
closed his eyes.  Unbidden, images of golden hair spilling over his
pale thighs came to him; he could see those bright, moist eyes looking
up at him from his position on the floor.  Yes, Erestor still
remembered a time when Glorfindel's loving was sweet and eager, not
tainted with Erestor's dominance.  He gasped and opened his eyes
quickly, staring intently at the dark head bobbing on his length,
replacing light with dark.

The sounds of leather on skin stopped, but Elrohir continued to suck
at him.  Erestor fisted Elrohir's hair and pulled the Peredhel from
his arousal.  "Enough, pen vara," he rasped out. (eager one)

Elladan tossed the flogger aside while Erestor pulled a panting,
squirming Elrohir onto the bed.  Erestor pushed Elrohir onto his back,
spreading the Half-Elf's legs wide and pushing them back, exposing the
black, leather covered phallus filling the entrance to Elrohir's body. 
Erestor deftly untied the hithlain and slipped the phallus from
Elrohir's body.  The younger twin moaned and writhed, his face flushed
and his arousal heavy and dark with his need.  Erestor looked up at
Elladan who knelt on the mattress near Elrohir's head.

"Did you think we would want to waste any time, Erestor?" Elladan
asked, lifting an eyebrow much like his father.  Elladan reached
between Elrohir's legs and slid two fingers deep into his brother. 
"He is ready, meldir, and so very willing," he said as he pulled oily
fingers from Elrohir's stretched passage.  Elladan's eyes were bright
with his excitement as he nodded to Erestor. (friend)

Erestor gazed down at the creature below him; when Elrohir was so
worked up, he reminded Erestor of a shamelessly wanton sprite, teasing
and begging to be used and left wanting more.  That was Elrohir's
favorite game: to be left hard and needy for as long as his partner
could stand it before offering release.  Elladan and Erestor had
become very adept at prolonging his torment.

He positioned himself and thrust forward.  Elrohir cried out and
clenched the sheets as Erestor set a brutal pace.  They rocked
together for a few moments under Elladan's intent gaze, but Erestor
soon realized the elder twin was hard again.  This was Elladan's
favorite pastime; he enjoyed watching his brother taken roughly by a
lover, knowing that Elrohir's body craved his twin's touch.  But,
Elladan always withheld that touch until the very end, until they were
both in a lustful frenzy.

The Noldo, though, leaned over and lapped at the engorged head of
Elladan's reawakened arousal.  Elladan moaned, and Elrohir released a
fistful of the sheet to grasp the base of his brother's erection,
steadying the thick shaft for Erestor.  Erestor smiled and engulfed
Elladan's length easily, plunging down as he thrust into Elrohir, and
he was quickly driven to his peak.  As he impaled Elrohir, and filled
his mouth with Elladan's ample cock, his mind drifted yet again.

He admitted to himself, finally, how much he had missed this.  Erestor
had missed the mastering of an eager submissive.  How he enjoyed
Elrohir's impassioned pleas as he was pounded into, knowing the
Half-Elf would never seek his own release unless he was given
*permission* to.  But, while the thrill of mastering the twins still
burned hot in his blood, it was hollow.

Erestor loved them both, more than anyone but their mother and father
knew of.  But, they were not Glorfindel.  While their submission was
sweet, it was not what his soul craved.  What he craved was
Glorfindel, was Glorfindel's love.

Glorfindel's submission.

His sac tightened and he became dizzy as his climax erupted.  He
released Elladan's sex and drove deep into Elrohir, spending himself
as a hoarse cry was wrung from his dry throat.  Erestor remained bent
over Elrohir's form as the tremors of his orgasm slowly ceased, and
then he pulled himself from those slick, hot depths.  He did not say
anything to either twin as he stood from the bed and, on unsteady
feet, walked to the bathing chamber.  He could still feel their
puzzled eyes on him as he closed the door softly.

Erestor drew a bath as he listened to Elladan and Elrohir make love. 
The act they performed now was nothing like the act the three of them
had just completed.

No, they enjoyed love and security in each other's arms.  They found
adoration and devotion, trust and loyalty.

Alone, Erestor hung his head in his hands, sobbing quietly to the
fervent sounds of lovemaking -- something he did not think he would
ever take part in again.

*****

Elladan wiped the milky liquid from Elrohir's backside.  His eyes
darted to the still closed bathing room door, and he furrowed his brow
in worry.  "He has been in there for a while, Elrohir," he said,
tossing the soiled rag aside.

"He needs time," Elrohir replied, wincing as he sat up.

"Did we hurt you, tôren?" Elladan teased, lying down with his head in
Elrohir's lap. (my brother)

Elrohir chuckled.  "It has been a while since I have been used so
thoroughly and frequently, Elladan.  Do keep that in mind." 

Elladan closed his eyes tiredly, smiling as Elrohir ran his fingers
through his hair.  He almost purred, content in the sated afterglow of
their evening.

"Elladan?"

"Hmm?"

"You should not treat Glorfindel so harshly," Elrohir said softly. 
"He suffers, too."

Elladan sat up, narrowing his eyes.  "He drove Erestor to do what he
did.  He does not deserve kindness."

Elrohir cupped Elladan's cheek, and Elladan felt himself pulled into
the grey depths of Elrohir's gaze.  "Erestor chose to be mastered by
his Tumbo.  He allowed it.  They are both at fault.  We help Erestor;
Ada helps Glorfindel.  But, you must be more patient and accepting of
Glorfindel.  He is very confused and very sorry, tôren.  Glorfindel
has learned much--"

"He has not!" Elladan snapped, glaring at his twin.  "He does not
regret!  He has not asked after Erestor or sought him out.  The great
Balrog-slayer hides behind his ignorance and it is not excusable!"

"You love Erestor so deeply, gwanunigen.  Had I not come to you all
those years ago, I believe he would be the mate of your heart -- not
I."  Elrohir smiled.  "But, our lives have traveled this path, and his
life has traveled a separate one.  One that led him into Glorfindel's
arms.  He still aches for him, Elladan.  He needs Glorfindel, as
Glorfindel needs him.  Do not add to his sorrow, and do not alienate
Glorfindel from your life.  He loves you, too.  Perhaps not as Erestor
does, but Glorfindel taught you all he knows of weapons, diplomacy and
warfare.  While Erestor taught us of bed play, of dominance and
submission as well as history, language and lore, Glorfindel's gifts
to us are just as important and just as full of his affections." (my
twin)

Elladan was drawn back into Elrohir's embrace just as Erestor emerged
from the bathing chamber.  His dark eyes were red-rimmed, and
Elladan's heart lurched in his chest.  His immediate thought was anger
toward Glorfindel, but Elrohir's words echoed in his mind.

If Erestor suffered so, then, perhaps, Glorfindel suffered as well.

Even more so, Elladan thought and they welcomed Erestor into the
warmth and love of their bed.

*****

Elrond sat back in his chair, well out of the session space.  He had
brought the chair into the playroom from the bedchamber during
Glorfindel's last session with Celebrían and was taking advantage of
it again.  The room was darkened except for a single candelabrum at
the opposite corner of the room, throwing flickering shadows around
the room of the two figures locked in an Ages-old dance.

Celebrían was shackled to the Fëanorian Cross much as she had been
during her first session with Glorfindel.  Tonight, though, she was
not completely nude.  An iron codpiece that had been adapted into a
chastity belt was locked around her waist, trapping her doubtless
engorged sex against the unyielding metal.  Twin chains of thin silver
were fastened to the back of the belt and snaked around to the front
of her sweat-soaked body on either side, finally terminating in tiny
clamps that were attached to her erect nipples.  Her hair had been
tightly braided and swept up off her neck, although a few stray
tendrils had been shaken loose by now.

Glorfindel, meanwhile, stood just at the edge of the candles' light. 
He, too, was a vision of beauty.  He stood shirtless, riding leathers
clinging to his legs like a second skin.  His golden locks were pulled
into a single thick braid down the middle of his back and tied with a
black ribbon.  His body also glistened with the sweat of his
exertions, and his eyes held a warrior's intensity, which Elrond was
gratified to see again.  The tightly woven black whip was held firmly
in his right hand; the other end pooled on the floor like a coiled
asp.

The Elda paused, as a predator sensing his prey, and then, with a
flick of his wrist, he brought the whip flying around his head and
cracked the tip against Celebrían's back.  The elegant Lady of
Imladris howled in a delicate mixture of pain and ecstasy, her entire
body arching backward as far as the restraints would allow.  This
latest blow added another thin red line to the crisscrossed mass
already adorning her pale flesh.  She scarcely had time to recover
before another line etched itself across her skin from Glorfindel's
backswing.

Elrond watched with a detached air as the Seneschal continued to
assail Celebrían with the whip.  His undivided attention was no longer
required in these sessions; indeed, he was beginning to feel somewhat
superfluous.  Glorfindel had progressed well in his training and no
longer needed the Peredhel Lord guiding his movements.  As a result,
he felt no guilt over allowing his mind to wander over these past
seasons. 

Guilt had been the key, of course.  Glorfindel's overdeveloped sense
of guilt, instilled in him by Námo himself, had driven him to seek
greater and greater levels of punishment, heedless of the harm that it
caused those around him.  Ingor training alone would never have been
enough to drive that from Glorfindel.  In the end, Elrond had moved
Glorfindel from the room he and Erestor had shared and into the room
adjacent to his own.  It was a dangerous gambit since Erestor was
staying with the twins, only a few rooms farther down the hall, but
that room held too many painful memories for Glorfindel to ever truly
heal.

So for months, Glorfindel would train with Elrond and Celebrían every
third night, and the intervening two evenings were spent sitting in
front of Elrond's fire conversing with the Half-Elf.  Where Celebrían
went on those evenings, Glorfindel never inquired.  He was simply
grateful for her absence from those discussions.  Elrond knew that
Glorfindel would never have been able to open up to him had she been
near.  Even so, there were many nights when they simply talked about
the day's tasks or other trivial matters.  As long as Elrond could
keep Glorfindel talking, eventually the conversation wound its way
back to more uncomfortable topics.

A particularly loud whip crack startled Elrond from his musings.  He
looked again at the result of all the labor.  When these sessions
began, Glorfindel was a broken Elf whose death by a Balrog had wounded
him more deeply than anyone could have foreseen.  And now, here he was
surrounded by shadow and flame, wielding the whip in *his* hands. 
Glorfindel had clawed his way from behind the wall of self-doubt and
guilt and been able to face himself -- and his actions -- for the
first time with a clean conscience.  He developed trust and respect
for himself as he developed them in others.  Celebrían deserved most
of the credit for that; her encouragement of Glorfindel in their
after-session chats had done a lot to boost the Elda's confidence.

Her encouragement at this moment was taking a much different form,
Elrond noted with a smirk.  Celebrían was writhing in her bonds now;
her hair had slipped further from its braid and was spilling over her
shoulders.  Her hips were thrusting forward as she tried in vain to
rub against the inside of her chastity belt.  His wife was radiant in
her submission, and his body responded quickly to the sight.

Glorfindel struck twice more before Celebrían shook her head, panting
and moaning, and called out, "Lalf!"  Elrond quelled the sudden urge
to jump from his seat and rush to her.  He knew that she was not
damaged or harmed; she simply knew she could not endure any more, no
matter how much she was enjoying the session.  Besides, Glorfindel
knew that he was always nearby if he was needed.

As it happened, the golden warrior performed perfectly, in Elrond's
estimation.  He quickly laid the whip on the ground and strode
purposefully -- neither walking nor running -- to Celebrían.  He
removed the clips from her breasts, no longer shy with the Lady's
body, and then hit the quick release latches on the wrist and ankle
shackles.  Finally, he unfastened the restrictive chastity belt and
cast it out of the way.  Celebrían leaned heavily against the Cross
while Glorfindel prepared a rag with a soothing salve and rubbed it
across the abused skin of her back.  Once he was assured that no
injury had been made, Glorfindel removed Celebrían's collar and helped
her into a light robe.

Only when the session had completely ended did Elrond stand and
approach the two.  He clapped Glorfindel on the shoulder with pride
beaming in his eyes.  Glorfindel was not fully trained as Ingor, but
that had never been the point.  He had proven that he now understood
far better than he ever had.  There was only one more test for
Glorfindel now before Elrond could let the Elda face the ultimate
trial of facing Erestor again.

Glorfindel would have to go under the lash once more.

TBC...

Title: Something Special, Something Sacred
Chapter: Chapter Twenty-Three : There's No Escape

---

Imladris, Third Age 2034

Glorfindel gritted his teeth, panting and grunting as he gripped the
bonds that held his arms above his head.  Another crack of the whip,
another line of fire slashed across his back, stinging with the sweat
that covered his skin.  His body ached with fatigue, but he still
refused to say what Elrond wanted him to.

They had been in this tiny room for hours now.  Glorfindel had been
subjected to every physical torment the Peredhel could conceive, but
he still refused to speak the one word that would end it all.  Elrond
said it was necessary for him to understand boundaries.  Elrond said
that all good Ingori and Tumbor knew their boundaries and respected
each other's.  Elrond said Glorfindel had to acknowledge his own
boundaries.

Elrond said a lot of things, Glorfindel reflected as he arched with
another harsh blow.

For three days now, Elrond had been trying to make Glorfindel set a
boundary.  The Elda had endured any and all types of tortures, though
Elrond never took things as far as Erestor had.  Glorfindel, after
each session, tried to explain to Elrond that he simply did not have
any boundaries for Elrond to cross.

Elrond continued to insist there was at least one, and he was bent on
finding it.  Glorfindel would smile and nod, promising to arrive for
the next session, and they would begin all over again.

On the first day, Glorfindel had been suspended from the ceiling by
his wrists and lifted so he barely touched the ground.  Elrond had
caned him in the back of the legs so severely that they would no
longer accept his weight, and buckled under him.  His arms burned as
they strained to support his dangling body, which Elrond took great
delight in spinning. 

On the second day, he had learned that the device that appeared to be
a table on its edge was in fact called Nienna's Wheel.  He had been
bound painfully by his wrists and ankles to wooden pegs along the
inside edge of the wheel, and Elrond had spun him around at dizzying
speeds, all the while beating him with a multi-thonged flogger across
his chest, stomach, and crotch. 

Today, though, he was facedown on the floor.  His arms and legs were
bound together and stretched to their fullest extent, fastened by
chain to great iron rings at the front and back of the room.  Elrond
stood above him with the leather whip, lashing him mercilessly from
every angle.  He walked around Glorfindel, stepping over him without
concern, so that Glorfindel could never predict where the next blow
would fall.

"You will never have him back, Glorfindel, if he cannot trust you." 
Whack.  "He will demand what I demand: boundaries.  If a boundary
cannot be found, then trust cannot be established."  Whack.  "Find
your boundary, Glorfindel.  It only takes the one, and then the next
is not so difficult to define."  Whack.  "This does not end,
Seneschal, until you give me what I want.  I am not burdened by a deep
love for you, and I will not stop."

The collar hung heavy around his throat, and the lashes to his back
were beginning to truly hurt.  He knew he should call out now... he
also knew he could continue to endure the punishment.  He was hard, he
was angry, and he was proud.  Though Elrond's approach was more
impersonal and not as sexual as when Erestor would dominate him,
Glorfindel still found himself painfully aroused after each session. 
Elrond's added punishment, though, was that Glorfindel could not find
relief.  Not until he named his boundary, and only then he would be
allowed release.

The beating stopped and Glorfindel's breathing was harsh to his ears. 
He heard Elrond behind him, and then his knees slammed to the hard
floor.  Elrond's feet appeared before him and the shackles around his
wrists and ankles were released.

"Oh your knees," Elrond said, his voice cold and distant.

Glorfindel did as ordered, weakly sitting up onto his sore knees.  The
Peredhel's hands fumbled at he fabric covering an obvious erection,
and soon Elrond's arousal was bared to the Elda's sight.  He stared
disbelievingly at the thick shaft and darted his gaze up to the cool
pewter eyes.  Glorfindel could not accept that Elrond truly meant for
him to...  A sudden sting of pain exploded across his face.  It was a
breach of the rules, to look up without permission, and Elrond had
swiftly enacted the punishment they had agreed upon -- he reached down
and slapped Glorfindel across the cheek.  The blow stung, but was more
humiliating than painful.  Glorfindel cast his eyes back down,
mumbling the requisite apology as Elrond's hand threaded into his hair
and pulled him forward. 

"Open," the Elf-lord ordered.

His face flushed with shame, Glorfindel closed his eyes and opened his
mouth, accepting Elrond's length.  He felt the tears sting as Elrond
began thrusting into his slack throat.  Glorfindel had not performed
this act for anyone but Erestor over the past thousand years -- for
his heart had belonged to Erestor long before they had come together. 
To do this now, for his Lord, was degrading and shameful to
Glorfindel.  Still, he swirled his tongue around the hard flesh,
suckled the bitter fluid from the slit, and swallowed dutifully around
the intruding shaft.

He pushed all thought from his mind, concentrating solely on the cock
plundering his mouth and the soft sighs of pleasure from Elrond.  It
was pulled back, the head left between his lips for a moment, and then
pushed back into the waiting warmth of his throat.  Again and again
Elrond did this, and Glorfindel's jaw began to ache, but he did not
pull away.  He continued to suck and lick, swallow and breathe around
the piercing flesh.

"Enough!" Elrond commanded, slipping his arousal from Glorfindel's
mouth.  "On your hands and knees, and spread your thighs."

As he fell forward and shifted his legs, Glorfindel's heart raced and
his face flushed again.  He hung his head, tears falling from his
eyes.  One word and Elrond would cease all actions, but that word
remained lodged in his throat.  He could no longer explain why he
could not stop these sessions; he would endure anything and everything
his Ingor would put him through.  With clinical efficiency, Elrond
slicked his passage with oiled fingers, bringing no further pleasure
or pain to him.

Glorfindel cried out in pain as Elrond's cock impaled him.  It had
been almost a year since he had been taken thusly, and to be used so
nonchalantly brought further humiliation upon him.  Elrond thrust
viciously into his body, slapping his bruised and stinging backside
with firm swats, and Glorfindel sobbed raggedly.

Elrond's movements became erratic, and Glorfindel knew the Peredhel
neared his release.  The idea of being filled with Elrond seed made
Glorfindel nauseous, and he fought the bile that rose in his throat. 
Elrond's nails dug into his abused flesh, and Glorfindel stopped
hiding his sobs.  Behind the long cascade of his hair, which Elrond
had left loose, he cried with abandon.  Sobs wracked his body as he
forced himself to remain still, forced himself to wait for the
inevitable.

"Shall I call Celebrían in, Glorfindel?" Elrond asked, his voice
uneven as he pounded into Glorfindel.  "Would you like for her to
witness me taking you thus?  Spending myself in your body, leave you
spread here for her enjoyment...  I could have you remain on hands and
knees," he gasped, and Glorfindel felt the shaft inside him swell
further.  "Let her watch my seed drip from your body..."

"No!" Glorfindel screamed, pulling away from Elrond, and crawling
backward on the floor until he felt the cold wall against his body. 
"Lalf!" he yelled, his eyes wild.  "Lalf," he whispered again, hanging
his head in his hands as he sobbed openly before Elrond.

Elrond stood up calmly and slipped a robe around his nude form. 
Through his tears, Glorfindel saw Elrond kneel in front of him and
take his hands.  "Glorfindel," the Peredhel called, brushing back damp
golden strands from his tear-stained face.  "You have a boundary. 
Tell me why."

Through sniffles and hiccoughs, Glorfindel tried to explain what had
forced him to finally say that dreaded word.  "I could not -- I could
not stand for her to see me in such a way."  He wiped at his tears and
looked away from the serene face of his Lord.  "Not only had I
mastered her, but I love her.  It would have been too much for my
heart to handle.  I could not allow you to call her in."

Elrond smiled.  "Your pride is your strength, and it is also your
weakness.  It has restrained you, and now it has set you free.  The
question in your mind has always been whether it would be a greater
blow to your pride to endure whatever indignity is being forced upon
you or to admit defeat by calling out a safe word.  Until today, your
answer has always been to endure.  The thought of my Lady seeing your
distress, though, was finally enough to tip the scales in the other
direction.  And how do you feel now, meldir?  Do you feel ashamed?"

The first thought in Glorfindel's mind was that of course he was
ashamed; he had just been reduced to tears in front of Elrond.  But
the truth of the matter was that he was more ashamed of that than he
was of using the safe word.  In fact, compared to calling out a simple
word, he had to admit that he was more ashamed of having pleasured
Elrond's cock, more ashamed of being helplessly spun around while
naked and exposed, more ashamed of being so weak in the legs that he
had to have assistance to stumble to his room.

More ashamed of forcing his lover to strangle him nearly to death
because of his misguided desire for punishment.

Glorfindel swallowed hard, afraid that a new wave of tears would
overwhelm him.  He looked up at Elrond, unable to speak.

The Peredhel stood gracefully and offered a hand to help Glorfindel
up.  "*Now* you understand," he said when they were both on their feet
again.  "Now you know everything that you need.  I have no more to
teach you."  Elrond removed the collar from Glorfindel's neck and
offered it to him.

Glorfindel accepted the thin, worn length of leather.  He noticed for
the first time that the embossed symbol in the middle of the collar
matched the branding scar on his thigh.  It was Erestor's personal
seal.

Elrond noticed Glorfindel's gaze and nodded.  "Yes, this was Erestor's
collar when he was my Tumbo.  I have given it to you because there is
one final step you must take.  You have mastered Celebrían; you have
even mastered yourself.  Now, you must master your master in order to
truly move forward."

The Elda's eyes widened at the thought.  "Lalf?" he rasped.  How
easily the word came now!

Elrond laughed.  "Not this time, pen lhûcheneb!  I am afraid that you
have no choice in this.  I will not trust the two of you together
without this.  But worry not, I will talk to him, and I will be there
as I have been before now." (blue eyed one)

Glorfindel's sigh of relief was clearly audible.  Elrond patted his
shoulder and sent him to bathe and then to bed.  Glorfindel hurried to
obey, feeling for the first time in some months that he had earned the
relaxation and rest.

*****

Glorfindel winced as he lowered himself into the heated water.  His
muscles ached and his head throbbed, so he closed his eyes and allowed
his mind to wander as he floated in the deep tub.

Master Erestor?  Could he truly do that?  He had been able to do so to
Celebrían, but he was not in love with her.  Erestor would have
certain expectations of him, he was certain.  After all, Erestor had
been Elrond's Tumbo for centuries.  Elrond had assured Glorfindel that
Erestor had submitted in the intervening years, but the Elda was sure
that those who had mastered Erestor had been accomplished in the arts. 
No, he was not Elrond... but would that really matter to Erestor?

Erestor.  Glorfindel had avoided pondering the dark Elf during the
long, lonely months.  His heart could not stand to dwell on his lover,
but now... now, he let his memories take hold.

He remembered one night, years ago, when Erestor surprised him with a
room full of candles, the scent of honeysuckle heavy in the room, and
Erestor laid naked in the center of their bed.  In silence, Glorfindel
stripped his own clothing off and joined him on the mattress.  Erestor
had him lay on his stomach, and then the Noldo rubbed hot oil into his
aching muscles.  After several hours of play, teasing and sucking on
each other, Erestor had taken him softly and gently.

Glorfindel shifted in the hot water, the memory of Erestor's fingers
on his flesh vivid in his mind.  He slid his hands along his body,
fondling his pierced nipples briefly, but the incessant throb between
his legs forced him to spend little time building his need.  It had
been days of sexual torture and his body demanded relief.

He wrapped his fingers around his aching length and stroked firmly. 
The memory of Erestor's red lips wrapped around his shaft made him
moan, and when he thought of those dark, expressive eyes looking up at
him as he was pleasured, he thought he would spend himself
immediately.

But, he stilled his hand.  He dipped his other hand into the soap oil
and slipped it below the surface of the water.  Glorfindel pressed two
soapy fingers against his opening and cried out as he penetrated
himself.  He began stroking his cock fervently, moving his fingers
deep inside his body.  His passage clenched about his digits as he
imagined Erestor's length taking him firmly and possessively.

His orgasm erupted suddenly and he cried out his lover's name as his
seed mingled with the water.  He continued to thrust his fingers
inside his body, slowly both the stroking of his shaft and the
stroking within himself.  After a few calming breaths, he removed his
fingers from his passage and sighed deeply, sinking under the water
and wetting his hair.

His heart felt lighter now.  As he broke the surface of the water, he
smiled, wiping the water from his face.  He would soon be with his
love again, and he would *never* let Erestor go again.

He *would* rebuild their trust.

He would master Erestor.

TBC...

Title: Something Special, Something Sacred
Chapter: Chapter Twenty-Four : I Can See Your Smile

---

Imladris, Third Age 2034

Erestor stood in the center of the playroom, his heart pounding in his
chest.  He shivered slightly, fighting the urge to cover his nude
body.  He knew his cheeks were flushed, though if it was in fear,
anticipation or both, he couldn't say.  The Noldo tried to calm his
racing heart, tried to ease his chaotic thoughts, but when he heard
the door to the outer chamber close, all attempts to remain collected
fled him.

Elrond had come to him the previous week.  He told Erestor of
Glorfindel's lessons, his progress, and what the Elda needed of him
now.  Erestor had protested at first, but Elrond calmed his fears and
soothed his worries, and Erestor had agreed.

Now, he looked to the playroom door where Glorfindel stood tall and
proud.  The sparkle in the azure eyes made Erestor realize the Elf he
gazed at was not the same Elf he had left half-dead on the bed months
ago.  He was still golden, still pale, and still as beautiful as the
first day Erestor had laid eyes upon him, but there was more.  The
shadows that had once haunted those sapphire depths were gone, swept
away and replaced with confidence and peace.

Under that watchful gaze, Erestor felt himself harden, but again
fought the need to cover himself.  "Glorfindel," he said softly.

The Elda walked further into the room, closing the door behind him. 
"Erestor."  Glorfindel slowly stripped off his tunic and shirt,
revealing the twin piercings and the broad, well formed chest Erestor
had spent years admiring before he was able to touch it.  "Are you
sure you agree to this?" Glorfindel asked, tying his hair back with a
thong.

Erestor had already braided and pinned up his own dark locks, and he
nodded.  "I am certain."

Glorfindel closed the space between them and cupped Erestor's cheek
tenderly.  "Do you think this will change anything, melethen?" (my
love)

"I want you in my life," Erestor choked out.  The Elda nodded and
pulled a leather collar from his waistband.  Erestor's eyes widened
when he saw the Age-old strip of leather, his seal emblazoned on the
center.  "My collar."

"Aye.  One last time, Erestor?" he asked, holding the collar by both
end.  Erestor nodded, lifting his chin and exposing his bare throat.

The cool strap was securely placed around his neck, and Erestor closed
his eyes for a moment.  It was hard; to be Tumbo again was something
he had not been called upon to be for almost an Age.  He let out a
long breath and opened his eyes again, averting his eyes obediently.

"Walk to the wall," Glorfindel ordered and Erestor knew immediately
which wall he was referring to.  With his back straight and his hands
at his sides, Erestor walked to where the shackles hung from the stone
wall.  "Arms up."  He was quickly shackled to the wall, and his need
to demand Glorfindel release him welled up again.  Could he truly
submit to one who had been bent on dying?

He quelled the urges, Elrond's words coming back to him.  He loved
Glorfindel.  Glorfindel loved him.  He had to trust him.

His mind had wandered and he did not know where Glorfindel stood in
the room.  He hissed when cool, slippery fingers pressed between the
cleft of his backside.  Elrond had been the only one to touch him so
intimately and he clenched his muscles.  He was rewarded with a solid
smack to his buttock.  Erestor relaxed, allowing the two fingers to
penetrate him.

"What is this just above the cleft of your backside, Erestor?"
Glorfindel asked, his voice calm and even.

Erestor knew what Glorfindel saw.  "Elrond's mark," he ground out as
those fingers quested inside his passage.

"Why have you never shown it to me?"  Deeper into his passage they
went.

"I did not want..."

Glorfindel's hand stilled.  "Did not want what?"

Erestor swallowed hard.  "I did not want to be vulnerable."

"How would sharing this with me make you vulnerable?"

"I had to be in control."

"Again I ask, how would sharing this with me change that?" 
Glorfindel's fingers again moved within him, and Erestor could not
stifle his moan of pleasure.

Panting, Erestor tried to answer his lover.  "To present myself to you
for you to have seen the mark would have meant you were taking me."

"I see," Glorfindel said.  "And now, would you deny me the opportunity
to take you?  To possess you as you have so often possessed me?" the
Elda asked, his hot breath moist on Erestor's ear.

Erestor knew the expected response.  Glorfindel thought Erestor would
say no, would deny him that pleasure still.  "No, Sir," he said
softly.  "I am yours."

The fingers disappeared, and Erestor felt empty.  Glorfindel's soft
chuckle unnerved the Noldo, and he tried not to turn his head, to seek
out the golden Elf.  Fingers again touched his backside, but instead
of thrusting into him, the spread his globes, exposing him to
Glorfindel's gaze.  Erestor felt his cheeks flush, but the shame was
soon cast aside.  He cried out as a thick, hard shaft pierced him.  He
knew it was not Glorfindel's cock that took him in such a harsh
manner, but one of the many phalluses kept in the wardrobe.  There was
a large part of himself that ached that the first time he was
penetrated by such an instrument, it was not Glorfindel himself, but a
cold, leather-covered shaft.

"What does it stand for?" Glorfindel asked casually, and Erestor
whimpered as the phallus was seated deep inside him.

"It is the symbol of his house," Erestor answered, tears stinging his
eyes.  This was so hard!  Glorfindel's touch left him, but his opening
throbbed around the large, foreign object.

"How did he do it?"  The voice was farther away from him now.

"With a hollow needle."  Erestor arched away from the sudden lash of a
flogger, and he tried to focus on the words coming from Glorfindel.

"Why?"

The strikes were stronger now, stinging the flesh of his back and
buttocks.  Glorfindel was adept with the flogger, careful to not
strike too strongly on his back, but able to create a steady pained
heat on his backside.  "I was his, and when he let me go to be my own
master, he marked me," Erestor managed, though the lashes came more
frequently.

"I see.  Have you ever allowed another to take you?"

Erestor wanted to snap at Glorfindel, tell him that such questions
were not meant for the playroom, but it was no longer his place.  No,
he was Glorfindel's Tumbo, and as such, he was required to do as
Glorfindel demanded.  "Three, Sir," Erestor replied, hissing when his
thighs were struck fiercely.

"Who?" Glorfindel asked, his voice rough to Erestor's ears as he was
hit again and again.

"Elrond."  Erestor was not sure he could tell Glorfindel the others;
he felt tainted and dirty, telling him of those who had tasted what he
hadn't.  Erestor's body was beginning to truly ache, and his buttocks
burned with each new lash and his passage began to feel overly filled,
as if he would be split by the phallus.

"Tell me!" Glorfindel bit out.

Erestor closed his eyes, the faces of his previous lovers coming to
him as they left his lips.  "Celeborn before Elrond and Celebrimbor
before Celeborn."

Glorfindel struck out at him without pause.  "All warriors.  All
nobles.  All heroes of our people.  Why them and not me, Erestor?  I
am a warrior.  I am a *prince*.  I am a hero of our people.  Why them,
Erestor?"

"I do not know!" Erestor sobbed as he was beaten, though his arousal
had not abated under the inquiry.

The whipping stopped and Glorfindel's fingers grasped his chin,
forcing him to look into those tormented blue eyes.  "Why them,
Erestor?" he demanded in a low, dangerous voice.  "Did you love them
as you do not love me?"

Erestor shook his head as best he could.  "Nay, Sir," he said,
remembering his place in this room.  "I love you so much more; you own
my heart, Sir, they do not."

"Then *why*?"

The Noldo's dark eyes met the Elda's light ones as he spoke.  "I could
not bring myself to bow before you.  I could not be weak before the
great Glorfindel of Gondolin," he whispered brokenly.

Glorfindel nodded slightly, the anger in his eyes dying quickly.  "I
do not want to master you to punish you, Erestor, no more than I want
to be mastered for the sake of punishment any longer.  I want you to
master me because it brings us joy and pleasure, not because it is a
duty set before us.  No more battle of wills, melethen, no more
secrets or silence between us," Glorfindel said, reaching around
Erestor's waist, slipping along the searing heat of Erestor's abused
buttocks.  "I am yours, but you must be certain you wish to be mine." 
Glorfindel pressed on that thick phallus and Erestor's eyes rolled up
into his head, and his cock throbbed as the shaft shifted inside him. 
"I want to take you, Erestor, but not as your master.  As your lover."

"Yes," Erestor breathed.  "Please."

Erestor was not certain how they made it to their bed, but they did. 
The phallus left him aching for fulfillment, and he eagerly stripped
Glorfindel of his boots and leggings.  Still bearing his collar
proudly, Erestor knelt on the floor at Glorfindel's feet, leaning in
to lap at Glorfindel's tight sac.  He would pleasure Glorfindel until
the Elda burned to take him, and Erestor reveled in the small amount
of control this offered him.

He drew Glorfindel deep into his throat, the scent and feel of the
Elda welcoming him home.  Erestor moved along that shaft while he
stroked and cupped Glorfindel's pouch, his lover's moans and soft
cries as beautiful to Erestor's ears as Lindir's composed music.  He
whimpered when Glorfindel forced him away from his cock, and he looked
up at the golden Elf with a sigh of annoyance.  Erestor had wanted to
taste Glorfindel's seed, wanted to dip his fingers in the milky fluids
and smear them over his flesh.  He wanted to smell of Glorfindel, be
marked as *his*, as Glorfindel's -- he wanted to be Elrond's no more.

Glorfindel climbed onto the bed and pulled Erestor with him.  As the
kneeled in front of one another on the cool sheets, Glorfindel reached
behind Erestor's neck and unclasped the collar.  "No masters,
Erestor," he said quietly as he also unpinned Erestor's hair.  The
think, raven locks fell heavy around his shoulders, coming to rest
well below his buttocks.  "I love you, gûren vôr," he said as he
leaned in to capture Erestor's lips. (my dark heart)

Erestor opened to Glorfindel's insistent probing, allowing the Elda's
tongue to slip into his mouth.  He moaned, trembling in Glorfindel's
arms as Glorfindel bore him down onto the bed.  The warrior's body was
supple and hard as he spread himself over Erestor's more slender body,
and Erestor cried out when their heated members came into contact. 
Glorfindel hungrily swallowed those needful sounds, and Erestor thrust
his hips up against Glorfindel wantonly.

"You are eager," Glorfindel chuckled, nipping at Erestor's bruised
lips.

"Do not make me wait any longer, Glorfindel, please," Erestor begged,
spreading his thighs so that Glorfindel could settle between them.  "I
need you, glauren." (my golden light)

Glorfindel reached out to the drawer in the table beside the bed,
blindly groping for the phial of oil Erestor always kept there.  Soon,
the scent of jasmine permeated the room and Erestor listened to the
sound of Glorfindel coating himself with the oil.  The Noldo refused
to let his thoughts dwell on any one emotion for long as he drew his
legs up, offering himself completely to his lover for the first time
in their relationship.

"I want you to look at me," Glorfindel said as he moved atop Erestor. 
The Noldo nodded, afraid his voice would betray the fear that gripped
his heart.

As Glorfindel pressed into his body, their eyes remained locked
together.  Erestor bit his lip as the blond thrust fluidly into him,
the phallus having helped to prepare his passage for Glorfindel's
ample length.  He wrapped his legs around Glorfindel's waist when the
Elda was fully sheathed inside him, his eyes still held by that dark
blue gaze. 

They were silent as they began to move, their eyes unblinking and
their hearts beating in time with one another.  Glorfindel would plant
butterfly light kisses along Erestor's cheeks, brow and lips as he
withdrew and impaled Erestor again and again.  Their silence was short
lived, though, as their tempo gained momentum.  Erestor soon thrust
back as Glorfindel moved forward, drawing the Elda deeper into his
passage.

Erestor lips began to move as Glorfindel's pants rose in volume.  He
whispered words of love, of need and of heartbreak to his lover,
promises of forever and of trust, and his eyes filled with tears of
relief when Glorfindel replied with his own vows and declarations. 
They kissed and touched, slowing their bodies when the end came too
near.  The two Elves were lost to themselves, lost in themselves, and
neither wanted to wake from whatever dream they were caught in.

His hands clenched and bunched the sheets as Glorfindel drove into him
and he wept openly, their kisses becoming salty sweet.  Finally,
Glorfindel took one of Erestor's hands in his and brought it to
Erestor's weeping length.  "Touch yourself; come with me, Erestor,"
Glorfindel said hotly against Erestor's ear.

Erestor knew he would not last long as he stroked his flesh firmly,
his vision blurry as he sought out Glorfindel's eyes again.  "You will
come back?" Erestor gasped, his body quivering on the edge of release.

"You will not send me away?"

"Never!"  Erestor reached up with his free hand and brought their lips
together in a desperate, brutal kiss as he spent himself over his
hand.  The kiss continued through the moans and whimpers, and the
pleasure Erestor experienced was heightened as his body spasmed around
the thick column of flesh inside him. 

Glorfindel arched his back, driving his cock deep into Erestor as he
orgasm quaked through his body.  After the initial release of his
seed, Glorfindel moved in shallow, swift thrusts, raking his teeth
over Erestor's swollen lips, drawing out his own climax as long as his
tired body would allow.

*****

The morning light kissed the golden Elf's body, and Glorfindel opened
his eyes.  He smiled and reached beside him, wanting to draw Erestor's
warmth closer to his body.  Instead, his hand touched cold, empty
mattress.  He sat up, his eyes darting around the chamber.  He had not
imagine their session or the lovemaking that followed... had Erestor
changed his mind and returned to the twins' bed?

He fought the tears that threatened to spill.  Glorfindel knew that
the session, the words and their need could have driven Erestor to
give into the moment, but he wished the Noldo would have said
something before leaving him... again.

"Glorfindel?"  The blond looked up at Erestor's robe-clad form
standing in the doorway of the bedchamber.  The dark Elf's brow was
furrowed in worry and he put the tray laden with sweet breads, fruits,
fragrant teas and juices aside and took Glorfindel's hands into his. 
"Are you not well, melethen?" he asked, brushing back a golden lock.
(my love)

Glorfindel let one sob escape him as he flung his arms around
Erestor's neck.  "I thought you had left me again," he confided in a
hoarse voice thickened with his unshed tears.

Erestor's return embrace held just as much passion and need as
Glorfindel's.  "Never," he whispered, inhaling the floral scent of the
Elda's hair.  "Never again, Glorfindel."

TBC...

Title: Something Special, Something Sacred
Chapter: Chapter Twenty-Five : I'll Be Waiting

---

Imladris, Third Age 2035

Erestor watched as Glorfindel took a tentative step inside the door. 
The room was lit by a myriad of candles placed around the perimeter. 
The constant flickering threw dancing shadows against the walls,
adding to the mysterious feel. Erestor remained hidden in the darker
shadows of the room, though, and Glorfindel hesitantly ventured
another step forward.

"Stop!"  Erestor's voice boomed out of the shadows.  Glorfindel froze. 
For a moment, nothing stirred.  Then, Erestor stepped into the light
on Glorfindel's left, drawing the Elf's attention to him.  The candles
flickered again, and Glorfindel's widened as he saw Erestor emerge
from beside the wardrobe.

He was shirtless, clad only in simple black leggings made of a silken
material that shimmered in the play of the candlelight.  His raven
hair was twisted and bound into a single thick braid reaching down his
bare back, a stark contrast to his pale skin.  His eyes held a
severity he was certain Glorfindel had not seen in many months.  No,
the intervening year had been spent loving and healing, taking and
giving, not dominating and submitting.

But, now, Erestor was prepared to step back into the role of Master.

Glorfindel remained motionless as Erestor walked slowly around him,
looking him up and down, admiring the Elda's sculpted that was bared
to his eyes.  When the dark Elf stood once again before Glorfindel, he
knew his expression softened almost imperceptibly for a moment, but he
quickly returned it to its harsh stare.

"From now until the time I release you," Erestor began, his voice a
cutting baritone that only trembled once, "and any other time you come
before me thus, you will address me only as 'Sir' and speak only when
spoken to.  Failure to show me this respect will be punished.  Without
my leave, no word shall fall from your lips *save one*."  Erestor's
glittering gaze caught Glorfindel's again.  The word... the heart of
the matter and the test of trust on Erestor's part.  "That is the word
*kelu*.  If you speak this word during a session, all actions will
cease immediately and for the remainder of that evening.  Do not, I
caution you, use this word idly, often, or without good cause.  Do you
understand?"

Glorfindel nodded.  "Aye, Sir," he said without hesitation.

Erestor help up the length of pale, golden leather, and for a moment
his voice failed him.  Instead, he held it up by both ends, displaying
it for Glorfindel.  The mithril buckle shined in the candlelight;
directly in the middle, the single sapphire jewel -- the same shade as
Glorfindel's eyes -- sparkled. 

When he had first commissioned the collar, it had been with hope and
anticipation.  When he had first placed the collar on the golden Elf's
throat, it had been with a sense of confidence and eagerness.  Now,
though, as he willed his hands not to shake, he felt nothing but
trepidation and fear.

Standing directly in front of Glorfindel, Erestor spoke softly.  "This
is your collar.  It is a mark of submission, and you will wear it for
the duration of a session.  You will not remove it under any
circumstances.  The session ends only when I remove it."  He wrapped
the collar around Glorfindel's neck, positioning the jewel at the
hollow of Glorfindel's throat, and fastening the buckle at the back of
his neck.  He sent out a silent prayer to the Valar as he stepped
back, dropping his hands to his sides.  "This is how you will always
appear before me during a session: naked and collared, your hair
fastened up, and standing in Position One.  Do you understand?"

Glorfindel nodded again.  "Aye, Sir."

The words sent chills down Erestor's back, but he continued without
pause.  "Good.  The Cross, Glorfindel," Erestor commanded, his tone
much stronger than he felt as he watched Glorfindel easily comply.

Erestor latched the cuffs around Glorfindel's wrists, but left the
Elda's feet free from the Cross.  He walked quickly to the wardrobe
and took out a small, flat paddle.  It reminded Erestor of when he had
beaten Glorfindel with the hairbrush all those nights ago, but tonight
they were in the playroom.  They had discussed their limits and
boundaries several times in the recent weeks, and one of Erestor's had
been that play such as this was confined to this room.  Outside this
room, he wanted to be Erestor and for Glorfindel to be Glorfindel. 
Elrond had sat in on many of these discussions, aiding in the
negotiation phase of their relationship.  It was a step Erestor had
recklessly left out of the initial stages when their relationship had
changed.

He was not going to make the same mistake.

The Noldo stood behind Glorfindel, the firm, rounded buttocks begging
for the contact of the paddle.  'One strike,' Erestor told himself. 
The first strike would be the most difficult for him...

His fingers ached with how hard he clenched the handle of the paddle,
but he still drew his arms back.  'Trust him,' Erestor thought to
himself.  'Trust him.'

The connection of wood to flesh was deafening to Erestor's ear, and
Glorfindel's body tensed for a moment.  Erestor forced himself not to
wait even a moment and struck the creamy globes a second time. 
Glorfindel seemed to relax completely, and they soon set a good,
steady rhythm.  Glorfindel started to moan and move with the paddle,
and Erestor could scent the Elda's arousal on the air.

Erestor's apprehension melted away as Glorfindel's sounds became more
ardent, and his own arousal started to make itself known.  When
Glorfindel's backside was bright red from the paddling, Erestor
stopped and returned to the wardrobe.  His panting matched that of
Glorfindel's, but he did not let his need overpower his reason.  He
took a flogger from the inside of the wardrobe door and took his place
behind Glorfindel again.  Without pause, he lashed out at Glorfindel's
back.

His hands were shaking, and his aim was not as sure as it once was. 
The strike intended for the middle of Glorfindel's back went too high,
and some of the thongs slapped against the Elda's exposed neck. 
Glorfindel hissed at the unexpected pain, but said nothing.  Erestor
had a moment of panic.  He hoped that Glorfindel realized that was a
mistake and that he was not trying to push forward too fast. 

He took two deep breaths to steady himself, and swung again.  This
time, he was able to bring the flogger down just where he wanted,
tracing a line from Glorfindel's right shoulder to left hip. 
Glorfindel moaned in pleasure, and Erestor relaxed a little more.  The
redness on the back of Glorfindel's neck was already beginning to
fade, and after a few more perfectly aimed blows, the memory of it
did, too.

The candles burned lower, adding their acrid scent to the musty smell
of sweat and arousal.  The sound of leather slapping flesh mingled
with grunts of exertion and moans of pleasure.  Time passed in the
small playroom, and it was as if the past three years had never
happened.  Erestor and Glorfindel moved together with the easy rapport
of longtime lovers.  Glorfindel's cries directed Erestor's movements,
and Erestor's actions strengthened Glorfindel's arousal.

Glorfindel's back was a glowing red when Erestor abandoned the flogger
for the whip.  The exchange was natural and automatic.  Not until the
first crack sounded across Glorfindel's skin did Erestor realize how
far they had come and how much time had passed.  Glorfindel yelped at
the impact, tightening his grip on the Cross.  The red line of the
lash barely stood out against the dark pink of Glorfindel's back. 
Erestor gritted his teeth and struck again. 

Glorfindel's voice was dry and raw from moaning and crying out, but
the word he choked out rang clearly through the room nevertheless. 
"Kelu!"

The whip hung forgotten at Erestor's side, just as the tears that slid
down his cheeks were not noticed.  Glorfindel hung from the Cross,
panting and sore, and Erestor ceased all play, but that one word
continued to echo in his ears.  The word Glorfindel had denied them
for so long had finally been spoken and a clearly defined line had
been set.  He dropped the whip to the floor and slowly unclasped the
collar from Glorfindel's neck, and then released his wrists.

The Elda turned to him, his own eyes swimming, and the two Elves
laughed.  It was not a hysterical, frightened laugh, but one full of
relief and pride.  Erestor gently embraced Glorfindel, careful to not
press too hard on the sore flesh of his back.  "A cool bath waits for
you, melethen," he whispered. (my love)

"That," Glorfindel replied, kissing Erestor's temple, "would be most
welcome."

Erestor pushed Glorfindel through the door of the playroom, telling
the Elda he would join him in the bathing room in just a moment. 
Erestor walked around the room, blowing out the myriad of candles, a
soft smile on his lips.  His heart was calm, his spirit soared, and he
actually looked forward to the next session he would share with his
lover in this room.

The nightmare, he thought as he closed the playroom door, was over.

*****

Glorfindel sat in the cool water, still waiting for Erestor to come to
his side.  Much had changed between them, and for the first time in
centuries, Glorfindel felt happiness -- true contentment.  Cool water
was splashed on his stinging back and he opened his eyes; he was
greeted with the serene smile of his dark lover.  "Erestor."

"Glorfindel."  Erestor's cool hands smoothed soothing oils and lotions
over his back and buttocks.  Glorfindel purred under the attention,
dipping his head back to allow Erestor to wash the golden locks.  "Are
you well, melethron?" Erestor finally asked, kissing Glorfindel's damp
shoulders.

"I am very well, Erestor," Glorfindel replied.  He had made a
conscious choice to refer to Erestor by his name as often as he could;
he hadn't spoken his lover's name outside of an argument in almost two
years, after all.

"Do you hunger?" the Noldo asked, standing up and reaching for a large
towel.

Glorfindel smiled, his eyes glinting deviously.  "Aye, I hunger,
melethen." (my love)

Erestor smirked, holding out the towel.  "Out of the water before you
catch a chill, meleth."

The blond Elf nodded and released the drain plug, permitting the water
to drain from the tub while Erestor tenderly dried his body. 
Glorfindel's arousal had eased as he sat in the bath, but now that
Erestor knelt on the floor before him, running the rough towel over
his legs, Glorfindel felt his length stir and fill.  Erestor's dark
eyes looked up, first capturing Glorfindel's bright eyes and then
staring opening at the heavy organ.

"I do not wish to wait until I have been dried, pampered and set on
the bed.  Take me here," Glorfindel rasped out, falling to his knees
on the wooden floor.  If Erestor's ink-black eyes could have darkened
further, Glorfindel was certain they would have.  In a flurry of
motion, Erestor shed his leggings and unbound his hair, reaching out
with one hand to draw Glorfindel into a searing kiss.

Glorfindel moaned into Erestor's mouth as their tongues touched and
danced about each other; need washed through him powerfully as their
bodies came into contact, heated flesh to heated flesh.

"I will not take you on your back, Glorfindel," Erestor panted,
nipping and licking at his lover's lips.  "It would be painful and
such things should be left in the playroom."

The Elda nodded and turned his back to Erestor, grasping hold of the
edge of the tub and spreading his thighs.  He cast an inviting look
over his shoulder, bending a little further so that the globes of his
backside parted, enticing Erestor to wait no further.  "Now, Erestor,"
he commanded, his eyes flashing in the lamplight of the bathing
chamber.

He could feel the weight of Erestor's gaze on his body; he heard the
sound of the oil opened; he moaned at the first touch of Erestor's
slick fingers upon his entrance.  Sodden tendrils of golden hair fell
into his face as he bent over the edge, and he whimpered as those two
fingers quickly prepared the way with lubricant.  Before his head
could cease spinning, Erestor was pushing into him, spreading that
tight muscle and forcing his way into his welcoming body.

Breathing quickly, he closed his eyes as Erestor carefully pressed his
chest to Glorfindel's back.  The cool skin of his lover caused his
abused back to sting and itch, but he ignored the sensation, focusing
instead on the full, stretched feeling in his backside.  "Erestor,"
Glorfindel whispered.  "I never tire of this."

Erestor chucked, the sound rattling in his chest and against
Glorfindel's back.  "Of what, specifically, love?"

"Of you.  Of having you as mine," Glorfindel said, pushing back,
encouraging Erestor to move inside him.

The Noldo bit and suckled gently at the side of Glorfindel's neck. 
"And that you have.  I am yours.  Only yours."  Erestor shifted his
hips, making shallow thrusts inside Glorfindel.  The strokes were only
enough to keep the embers of his passion glowing hot, not enough to
fan them into white-hot flames.

"Faster," he breathed, arching against Erestor's body.  "Please,
faster."

Erestor sat back away from him a bit and placed his hands on
Glorfindel's hips.  "Anything," Erestor promised, withdrawing almost
completely and then shoving himself forward, only to repeat his action
a heartbeat later.

Glorfindel's keening cry echoed in the tiled room as he threw his head
back, reaching behind himself with one hand to grasp Erestor's thigh. 
He could not touch Erestor enough -- he needed to feel Erestor as much
as he could.  He pulled on Erestor's thigh, demanding the pace
quicken, and Erestor obliged.  Erestor pounded into him, and
Glorfindel felt his own member drip and twitch, begging for a touch. 
He finally released Erestor's thigh, needing his other hand to brace
himself against his lover's onslaught, and wrapped his fingers around
his sticky cock.

"Yes," Erestor hissed, his finger digging almost painfully into
Glorfindel's hips, but the Elda did not care.

He stroked himself quickly, Erestor's name a mantra on his lips, and
within moments, he spilled his seed over his hand and onto the floor. 
The white droplets were a sharp contrast to the dark wooden planks of
the bathing room floor, Glorfindel thought absently, still pulling on
his aching arousal and wringing all he could from his climax.

Erestor continued to claw at his hips and drive into him, Glorfindel's
name coming with every inward thrust.  The dark Elf yanked Glorfindel
back onto his lap, burying himself deeply inside Glorfindel's still
quivering passage, and spent himself, groaning loudly into
Glorfindel's ear as his fluids filled his lover.  Erestor's grip
lessened on the blond's hips and Glorfindel sank back into the Noldo's
warm embrace.

"I love you, Erestor," he said raggedly, closing his eyes and inhaling
the unique scent of their lovemaking.

Erestor nuzzled at his temple, smiling against Glorfindel's flushed
skin.  "I love you, too, Glorfindel."

*****

Ithil was large and round, casting silver-white light over the large
bed.  Though Glorfindel was deep in reverie, as he was following any
session, Erestor remained awake and alert.  He lay beside the golden
warrior, on his side with his head propped up on one hand, and he
lightly ran his fingers over the bars that pierced through the tender
flesh of Glorfindel's nipples.  He silently reflected over the past
few years, thinking of their actions, their reasons, and the outcome
of it all.

That was all I wanted, Erestor thought as he looked at the bright,
distant blue eyes.  He had needed something special; something sacred
gazing back at him from Glorfindel's eyes.  Just for one moment, to be
bold and naked at the brave, glorious warrior's side.  He was just a
scholar, a simple Elf who had been inducted into a world that had
brought him such pleasures and wonders, but Glorfindel... Glorfindel
was an accomplished warrior, fearless and beautiful.

But, he had also seen that all Glorfindel had wanted someone special
and sacred in his life.  He had never had that, it seemed.  The Elda
had been alone most of his life, even when he had shared his bed and
his heart with Ecthelion.  In Erestor, it seemed Glorfindel had wanted
just one moment to hold onto and chose for that moment to be at
Erestor's side, warm, naked and willing.

Erestor had been prepared to give up all he was to give Glorfindel
that moment.  Whatever Glorfindel had asked for, that was what Erestor
would have been.

Now, though, they understood one another.  They had faith in one
another.  He saw Glorfindel for what he was: an Elf whose guilt still
haunted his footsteps, but one who had faced that demon and banished
it from their bed.  And Erestor knew Glorfindel finally saw him for
what he was: an Elf who had permitted his own needs to be cast aside
in favor of another's, but one who finally saw what his own needs were
and had found the resolve to demand they be acknowledged.

And, together -- with their eyes finally open to the truth of their
beings -- they would be strong.

They had each found their special, sacred something within each other.

TBC...

Title: Something Special, Something Sacred
Chapter: Epilogue : Slave to Love

---

Imladris, Third Age 2038

The night was clear and bright; Ithil hung pregnant in the sky.  In
one of the remote gardens populated with honeysuckle, roses, orange
blossoms and jasmine, those dear to Imladris' Seneschal and Chief
Councilor gathered quietly.

Elrond stood to one side of the arbor the twins had erected, and his
wife stood to the other.  Elladan, having long ago lain to rest the
differences between himself and Glorfindel, was tall and proud by his
mother's side while Elrohir remained quiet and reserved beside his
father.  Standing several feet from the arbor were Celeborn and his
Lady with Haldir standing beside the Lórien Lord, his mithril collar
glinting in the moonlight.

The only other attendant, who Elrond had been a little uncertain of,
was Lindir.  The minstrel, who had once submitted to Erestor, sat on a
low bench to the side of the clearing, strumming his harp softly.  It
was a magical night, thought the Lord of Imladris, and one could not
ask for a more perfect setting for such a union as this.

From the shadows to the left of the group stepped the dark Elf, only
this night, Erestor shone vividly among the foliage.  His dark hair
was loose and tiny rubies sparkled in the long, black tresses. 
Elrohir had woven the gems into the raven hair himself, and the fiery
winking of those jewels gave Erestor's hair a reddish tint.

He wore long crimson robes, decorated elaborately with silver threads
and garnets of varying shapes and size.  His under tunic and shirt
were lighter shades of red and his collar was decorated with carnelian
along its hem.  Even his lips had been tinted vermilion with
Celebrían's rouge, and tiny chips of the pinkish rubellite had been
pasted beside his left eye in an elaborate sunburst pattern, orange
paint having been used to create vines and rays like the sun. 
Erestor's eyes, usually dark and cold, were shining with warmth and
excitement.  To his loved ones, as he approached the arbor, he
embodied all the heat and radiance of Anor in the afternoon sky.

Elrond had given him a binding gift that morning, and Erestor wore it
proudly.  A thin line of mithril snaked across his forehead, dipping
down between his brows.  In the center was a most magnificent gem;
blazing red amid the pale expanse of Erestor's skin was a large ruby,
the white, ghostly naturally formed starburst vivid in the heart of
the flaming stone.

From the right, the golden Elf of Gondolin appeared, his head held
high and his hair plaited in a long-forgotten fashion.  Gold ribbons
had been woven into the braids, and his hair shimmered in
multi-faceted ropes of gold.  He was not dressed in robes, though.

Glorfindel's legs were clad in charcoal grey leggings that clung to
his well-shaped thighs.  Boots, matte black, covered his calves,
ending just below his knees, and his sword hung low on his waist.  He
wore a long tunic in forest green that was embroidered in tiny yellow
flowers, all of which sparkled in the white light of Ithil, for
heliodor had been sewn into the small buds.  His cloak was of legend
-- green as the grass he walked on, but sprinkled with the citrine
gems, it looked like a field of green on which the fabled celandine
grew.

And upon his head was an intricately woven crown of gold; carefully
wrought flowers with emeralds as leaves spread across his noble brow. 
His symbol as the Chief of the House of the Golden Flower -- an honor
he still held close to his heart.

A field of spring with the sun beside it, that was what Glorfindel and
Erestor reminded everyone gathered as they stood side by side under
the arbor of honeysuckle, looking into one another's eyes.

Elrond took Erestor's left hand in his and Celebrían took Glorfindel's
right.  They joined the two Elves' hands, a smile playing on the elder
couple's lips.  Celebrían stepped back, folding her hands before her,
and called out, "We call upon Varda to bear witness to this joining!" 
She then joined her son again, her pale blue eyes dancing with quiet
mirth.

"We call upon Manwë to bear witness to this joining!" Elrond said, his
voice deep and commanding, and he joined his younger son a few steps
from the couple.

In perfect harmony, Erestor's resonating baritone and Glorfindel's
powerful tenor called forth Eru to bear witness to their joining.  In
the laws of the Elves, Eru's name was not often invoked, but in such
an important union as a marriage, the Creator's blessing was desired.

With only Lindir's harp breaking the silence of the small garden,
Erestor slipped the silver ring from his finger and placed it in the
palm of Glorfindel's outstretched hand, and received back the one
matching ring Glorfindel had worn for almost two years.  Glorfindel
then produced a slender gold ring, simple and untarnished, and slid it
slowly onto the index finger of Erestor's right hand, a smile tugging
at his full lips as he gazed into his beloved's eyes.

With tears shining in his eyes, Erestor slipped a similar gold ring
onto the index finger of Glorfindel's right hand, willing his hands
not to shake as he released his lover's hand.

The stars twinkled brilliantly in the black cloth of the sky, and
Ithil seemed to smile upon the small party of Elves celebrating love
and life.  Erestor lifted his dark eyes to the sky and parted his ruby
lips, lifting his voice in song.

"When you are sad, I will dry your tears.  When you are scared, I will
comfort your fears.  When you are worried, I will give you hope.  When
you are confused, I will help you cope.  And when you are lost, and
can't see the light, I will be your beacon, shining ever so bright." 
Erestor lowered his eyes, capturing Glorfindel's glittering gaze with
his own, his song slowing and his voice softening.  "This is my oath;
I pledge to the end.  Why you may ask?  Because you are my lover and
friend."

A tear slipped down Glorfindel's cheek as Erestor's voice faded, and
he thought his heart would burst.  Instead, his sung his own vows, his
own oath to the mate of his soul.  "I cannot promise you a life of
sunshine; I cannot promise riches, wealth, or gold; I cannot promise
you an easy pathway, that leads away from change or growing old."  He
cupped Erestor's pale cheek, lightly running his thumb over the
gemstone starburst beside his eye.  "But I can promise all my heart's
devotion; a smile to chase away your tears of sorrow; a love that is
ever true and ever growing; a hand to hold in yours through each
tomorrow."

Erestor leaned forward, closing his eyes as his lips touched
Glorfindel's, and they kissed deeply before their friends and those
they considered family.  When the small group began to clap, Erestor
laughed and drew away from his mate, grasping the Elda's hand tightly
in his own.  "I love you, Glorfindel."

Glorfindel's smile was wide and unabashedly proud.  "And I love you,
too, Erestor."

With their ceremony complete, they received the well wishes and tokens
of love from everyone.  The night was old, though, and Erestor kindly
bid Celeborn, Galadriel, Haldir and Lindir good night and looked to
Elrond.  There was still a small, very private ritual that Erestor
wished to begin as soon as possible.  They bowed to the Lord and Lady
of Lórien and, hand in hand, exited the hidden garden.

*****

Slightly nervous, Erestor entered the room, bare as the day he came
from his mother's womb.  The lamps were light, driving all shadows
from their bedchamber.  Elrond stood next to Glorfindel on Erestor's
bedside while Celebrían, Elladan and Elrohir sat nearby on a small
sofa.

Erestor had braided his hair, pinning it up at the nape of his neck,
and he padded softly to the bed.  He suppressed his urge to cover
himself under the intense gaze of the occupants of the room, but he
could not stop the blush from creeping across his pale features.

Glorfindel watched Erestor lay on his stomach on the bed in front of
him, his well-shaped backside creamy and flawless in the lamplight. 
Just before the crevice that split is buttocks rested a dark mark --
Elrond's house symbol from millennia before when Erestor knelt before
him in submission.

Tonight, though, that would change.  Erestor's mark would no longer
show Elrond's possession, but Glorfindel's.

Elrond handed Glorfindel the thin, hollow glass pipette that he had
drawn black ink into.  He nodded to Erestor's backside and smiled
encouragingly at Glorfindel.  They had discussed this ritual for
several weeks, and Glorfindel knew what he was to do -- he just did
not wish to inflict pain upon his newly bound spouse.

Still, he bent and pressed the sharpened glass tip into Erestor's
flesh, pushing forward, withdrawing, and performing the task again. 
Slowly, he altered the ancient pattern of Elrond's house to the bloom
of his own.

The Noldo hissed and bit at his lip, the long-forgotten pain of this
branding resurfacing immediately.  After several moments, though, the
pain receded and he concentrated instead on the steady sound of
Glorfindel's breathing and the secure warm presence of the blond in
his mind.  Soon he was lulled into a light trance, and time passed
quickly for him.

Glorfindel stood up, the lamps dimming as the oil burned lower, and
looked at the small blossom that now sat upon Erestor's flesh.  The
skin was enflamed, but he knew that would pass within a few days'
time.

Erestor was his.

When he looked around the room, he noticed that the Peredhel family
had slipped out unnoticed, leaving the newly wedded couple alone. 
"They have left us, Erestor," Glorfindel whispered roughly, his eyes
dark as he gazed at his spouse's fair form.  "We are done."

Erestor rolled to his side, his arousal thick and prominent against
the coverlet.  He smiled up at Glorfindel and held out his hand.  "No,
melethen.  We are just starting." (my love)

The End

Title: Extended Author Note
Chapter: Part Twenty-Seven
Note -- I do ask that this be included on all archives that currently
house "Something Special, Something Sacred" as it is an important
chapter in this series.  Thank you.

---

Warning: This is a multi-section author note.  It contains a lot of
explanation and elaboration on the themes of this story -- as well as
the actions of the characters and my choices.  If you think you can
make it through this, I feel "Something Special, Something Sacred"
will be enriched by it.

I. Thank You

There are people I feel I need to thank, or else S4 would never have
made it -- *I* never would have made it through this.  My initial beta
for this was Larien Elengasse, and though the subject content was not
something she thought she could continue with, she still encouraged me
to write it, and sent me in the direction of the permanent beta for
this.  Thank you, Larien.

Alex Cat has been amazing.  Alex was there for every little pitfall of
this plotline, and helped with the pacing and content of several of
the chapters.  One could not have asked for anything more of her, and
I am grateful she took on this piece.  Thank you, Alex.

Fimbrethiel -- dear Valar, I bugged this woman at work, at home, on
vacation... lol.  She helped in discussing many of the psychological
aspects of S4, helped me when the fic became darkest, and I am forever
indebted to her for that.  Right until the end, Fimbrethiel has stood
beside me in the writing of this fic, even going so far as to give me
her ideas on the binding ceremony.  She has become a dear friend, and
an amazing encouragement to me.  Many thanks must go to her.

Ilye.  What can one say about the person who kicks their ass?  Who
makes them live up to the potential they have?  Ilye is one of the
most frank and friendly people I know, and I am so honored to call her
my friend.  When I thought to toss S4 aside, she happily whapped me
back into gear.  Thank you, Naneth.

There are others, whose feedback and comments, IMs and emails meant so
much as this piece lagged.  Vesta and Aprilmoon were always leaving
detailed discussion comments on the Erestor list that were amazing and
so educational.  But, I must also send thanks to the people who just
stuck with it, no matter how dark it got: Danielle, Elfscribe, LK,
Mirasaui, Niniel, Denise (Sian), Sarah (skon), Eowyn, Rennwench, Ryo,
AJ, Majinbakahentai, Ivorybrowneyes, Lisbet, Elf Eater,
Wilwarinandamar, Ankatarin, Kaila, Rainien, and finally the Anonymous
poster on AFF.net who left a large review, bringing to mind some
unresolved issues in the storyline.

I only have one more set of thanks, and I did save them for last
because they mean so much to me: Erik, Maya and Kit.  My family -- my
loves and my best friends.  Thank you all, this could *not* have been
done without you, and I love you so very much.

II.  Personal Experience

I am a twenty-five-year-old married, bisexual, polyamorous woman.  I
am a sexual submissive.  I have bottomed for the same top for almost
nine years now.  For the most part, I have experienced much of what I
had Glorfindel experience, though the storytelling was mostly through
the top's POV.  That was something I had to learn from my dominant --
and he was extremely helpful in all aspects of writing this story. 
What he did not know personally, I researched.

In my time as a submissive, I have done what is called 'topping from
the bottom' -- and my dominant was kind enough to quickly put a stop
to such behavior.  Unfortunately, Erestor did not stop Glorfindel from
doing so.

My BDSM relationships are built on a strong foundation of love and
trust.  Though love is not necessary for all BDSM relationships, it is
for my own.  To me, when I trust someone that implicitly, I also fall
in love with them.  I tried to show that Erestor tended to not make
lovers of his BDSM partners, to show that it is not always sexual, but
for me -- it is.  I am a very sexual person, so I cannot separate the
non-sexual aspects BDSM from the sexual acts of my lovers.

This is why I threw in Erestor's confusion, his difficulty with
dominating his lover.  While my husband is adept at separating his
role as master from his role as husband, not everyone can do this;
Glorfindel and Erestor were unable to draw the line between their BDSM
life and their everyday life.

That is an important boundary, and one they were only able to draw
after being put through terrible trials.  I find myself very lucky
that my husband and I never had to do that, that he could look at me
outside of a session and see his wife, not his submissive, and that I
could look at him and see my husband, not my master.

III. Intent

I've been in the LotR fandom for just over a year now, and was a
voracious reader for most of that time.  Those who know me well have
undoubtedly seen pictures of my bookshelves full of binder after
binder of printed fanfiction.  I've read a lot of stories with BDSM
warnings, and in all but a couple of special cases, I have been at
best disappointed, and at worst disgusted and offended.

The BDSM warning within this fandom has come to represent a variety of
non-consensual deviant sexual behavior, and as a member of the BDSM
community, I felt that such fiction did a disservice to the lifestyle. 
What also disturbed me was the enormous popularity of such fics.  Here
was an entire class of fiction by misguided or misinformed authors who
were portraying non-consensual sex, rape, torture, sadism and
dehumanization, and it was generating this large following of people
who associated all of that with the term "BDSM".

One particular story comes to mind.  Out of decency, I won't use names
or specific events.  Character A comes across character B and rapes
him, but justifies it by saying that because B had an orgasm, it
wasn't "really" rape.  When B is cast out of his home, A allows B to
live with him.  But A subjects B to all manner of dehumanizing
behavior and forces him into a situation where he is stripped of his
name and identity, beaten publicly (among other tortures), and
repeatedly raped -- almost always motivated by anger, not desire.  For
some reason, though, B falls in love with A and forgives him all the
cruelties and indignities.  Apparently, it is this fact that made the
author feel justified in labeling the fic as BDSM, despite the total
absence of safety, sanity, or consent.

I am not saying that the author is a "bad author" or trying to make
any other statement about the author.  All I am saying is that it is
this type of story that, more often than not, is marked as BDSM.  In
order to try and combat this unflattering perspective in some small
degree, I came up with the idea for this story.  The entire intent of
S4 was to portray BDSM for what it truly is.

To do that, I knew it would take more than my simply showing a
successful BDSM relationship with no conflict.  Apart from being a
very boring story, it would do nothing to instruct, redefine, or
inform.  Stories like "Asking Price" and "Checkmate", while fun, were
not informative.  Someone with no knowledge of BDSM would likely have
no more idea of the principles and foundations of the lifestyle when
they finished reading it than when they began.

A rose-colored-glasses version of BDSM would have been just as
ineffective.  Jumping right in and throwing the philosophy and ethos
of BDSM at a reader with preconceived notions of the genre would
likely be turned off instantly, or if not, would never understand or
reconcile the concepts with their expectations. 

The pace of the story was carefully laid out so that three-quarters of
the plot was devoted to smashing preconceptions by seeming to cater to
them.  Erestor and Glorfindel's relationship degenerated very quickly
into a caricature of other BDSM relationships elsewhere in the fandom. 
Erestor seemed overbearing and cruel, while Glorfindel appeared cowed
and beaten into submission.

Then the rug is pulled out from under the reader, and the world goes
topsy-turvy.  We see that Erestor wasn't really in control after all,
and Glorfindel was actually being demanding, but in a totally
passive-aggressive way.  At this point, those preconceived notions are
thrown into disarray and collapse on themselves.  It's only at this
point that the reader is ready to accept a new explanation.

To paraphrase Spider Robinson, map-making isn't that difficult.  There
are essentially four steps.  Two, three, and four are observe, record,
and integrate.  But until you do step one, the other steps don't make
any sense.  Step one is "throw out all your old maps".  By the same
token, the only way that I could push a different view of BDSM onto a
reader was to first make sure that they couldn't trust their current
view.

IV.  Theme

The themes of this story were reiterated time and again: love, pride,
guilt, fear and miscommunication.

Erestor and Glorfindel were in love before the BDSM was part of their
relationship.  They loved for years, and pined for each other long
before they came together as a couple.  It is this love that allows
them to eventually rebuild their trust and their relationship.  It is
also that love that drives Erestor to give up all he is in order to
meet Glorfindel's intensifying demands.  Their love is both a blessing
and a curse throughout the story.

Pride.  This was mostly Glorfindel's sin.  He was so proud.  He did
not want to admit that he had limits, and this led to him pushing and
testing Erestor, controlling their sessions and forcing his will upon
his master.  Every time Glorfindel stepped into the role of
submissive, the playroom -- and later their own bedroom -- become a
battle ground.  His will against Erestor's.  In the end, his will won,
and it nearly cost him his life.

Glorfindel's guilt ate at him and pushed him to desire intense
punishment.  This guilt was instilled by Námo, but Glorfindel held
onto it, even when he was released from Mandos.  In all his years, he
searched for ways to atone for sins he was *not* accountable for --
but his twisted sense of honor made him take on the blame for
incidents he had no direct control over.  Erestor's guilt came from
the extent of his actions with Glorfindel.  His sanity hung by a
thread when he strangled Glorfindel, and it was only by Elrond's will
that Erestor did not simply lose his mind from the guilt that ate at
him.

Both parties had deep rooted fears.  Glorfindel feared failing.  His
pride did not permit failure, and that became his driving force for
part of the storyline.  Once he was removed from the relationship,
though, his fears mutated to never being with Erestor again -- which
caused new guilt to bud within him.  Erestor's fears, which were not
revealed until the very end, had been loss of control, of showing his
weakness.  He had idolized Glorfindel from afar, and once he had the
Elda in his possession, he could not bring himself to appear weak
before him.  This meant he had to always top, always control their
lovemaking.  Those fears overshadowed their love and fed their guilt.

And the true core of this story: miscommunication.  At every step, the
two Elves were never open or honest with themselves or each other. 
They were not honest with their friends, and the deeper in the mire
they became stuck, the less they communicated.  This is what led to
the destruction of the relationship and what fed the pride, the fears,
and the guilt.  Had they spoken openly to one another at any point in
this story, most of the heartbreak could have been avoided.

But, if they had done that, no lesson would have been taught and
learned, now would it?  *winks*

V.  Heart of the Story

What is the heart of this story?  Well, it's very simple.  When the
BDSM is stripped away, what you have left are two individuals whose
relationship falls apart from their own doubts and insecurities. 
Nothing more, nothing less.  Glorfindel and Erestor each had private
demons in their lives that they battled in silence and solitude, with
too much pride or fear to confide in the other and deal with their
difficulties openly.

I could have written this story without the BDSM, and it would have
been just as compelling a tale, I believe.  However, I chose to place
their relationship against the BDSM backdrop for two reasons. 
Firstly, because the whole intent was geared toward revising
misconceptions of BDSM.  And secondly, because the use of BDSM
sessions allowed me a more visually obvious way to show the
degeneration of the relationship.  But in the final analysis, it's
nothing more than a tragic love story, similar in pace and form to the
monomyth that Joseph Campbell espouses in his book "Hero with a
Thousand Faces".

VI.  Communication, Negotiation, and Contracts

Communication is the beating heart and soul of a successful BDSM
relationship.  Honest, open communication between dominants and
submissives is the only way to maintain the levels of trust and
understanding necessary to keep a BDSM relationship from degenerating
into a battle of wills.  Constant communication is the cornerstone of
*any* successful relationship, frankly, but it is especially important
in non-traditional relationship forms like BDSM and/or polyamory.

Before entering into a BDSM relationship, the two (or more) partners
should ideally have a long discussion regarding limits.  Typically
referred to as 'negotiation', this is a chance for everyone involved
to lay out to everyone else their desires, their fears, and their
limitations.  The latter comes in two forms: hard limits and soft
limits.  A hard limit is a line that is never to be crossed under any
circumstances.  A typical hard limit is drawing blood, for instance. 
A soft limit, by contrast, is a limit that can be gently pushed under
the right circumstances.  This is generally something that the partner
is curious about exploring, but wants to approach slowly and
cautiously.

Sometimes, these negotiations are explicitly preserved in a written
contract.  I personally disagree with such trappings, as it seems to
be only a way to determine accountability should something ever go
wrong.  With effective, honest, ongoing communication, that should
never be necessary.  However, I felt it important to mention that they
sometimes happen and why I chose not to include it between Glorfindel
and Erestor.

VII.  Safe Word in BDSM Relationships

Another theme I found constant in the feedback was 'Why doesn't
Glorfindel use the safe word?"  I feel I need to explain about the
safe word.

This word is meant to be used in extreme cases of discomfort, pain,
humiliation, etc.  It is not meant to be idly thrown about.  To do so
would lessen the power of the word, and a submissive would be
hard-pressed to find a dominant who would tolerate such misuse of so
sacred a word.

In this story, what ultimately prevented Glorfindel from using the
safe word was his own pride; he did not want to fail in Erestor's
eyes.  And by the time the acts he was participating in had reached
the point where use of the safe word was what Erestor *wanted* from
him, Glorfindel had found the means to enact the punishments he
believed he deserved.

Glorfindel, prior to his near-death experience, was never meant to use
the safe word.  It was against his established character and, I admit,
Erestor permitted him to believe that to use the safe word was a
failure.

VIII.  Tops, Bottoms, and Switches

These are not terms that apply solely to a BDSM context, but also to
descriptions of roles in gay relationships, too.  A lot of people, and
particularly a lot of slash authors and readers, seem to believe that
those in gay relationships would necessarily trade roles on a regular
basis.  While this may be true in some relationships, it is actually
more likely that one partner will top the other a great majority of
the time.

I feel it necessary to point this out because of several emails I
received asking me to show Glorfindel topping Erestor -- not in a BDSM
sense, but in a pure sexual sense.  The simple fact is, though, that
the Glorfindel in this story is a confirmed bottom.  He simply has no
desire to top Erestor.  There really is no reason for it; that's
simply his choice and preference.  He enjoys being taken by his
lovers.  The one time that he does top Erestor is an awkward situation
for him, and is done really only because Erestor knows that he needs
to overcome his fear of appearing weak and vulnerable before
Glorfindel.

Erestor, meanwhile, is a top in every sense of the word.  He may have
been trained as a bottom, and he may have bottomed for three of his
lovers in the past, but the reason for that has to do with the
particular circumstances of those relationships.  The majority of the
time, though, he has always been the dominant partner.  And that's
just how it is.

Most gay relationships do not switch roles within their own
relationship.  Every gay or bisexual man that I know (and I've met
quite a few) identifies as one way or the other.  A true switch is
very rare, and even rarer are relationships with two true switches.

In BDSM relationships, there is even less crossing over.  A true BDSM
switch is a very rare thing indeed; most people are most comfortable
as a dominant or a submissive, and rarely is a person equally
confident and comfortable in both roles.  I may be willing to dominate
in a particular relationship, but that does not change my
self-identification as submissive.  I would never be just as
comfortable in a topping role, and I do not actively seek out those
roles.

The exception to this rule is the SAM -- the "Smart-Assed Masochist". 
The SAM is someone who ostensibly identifies as a bottom, yet uses
that position to exert control over the dominant.  This is also called
"topping from the bottom", which is what Glorfindel was doing
throughout most of his relationship with Erestor, albeit unknowingly. 
He pushed the sessions farther and farther, forcing Erestor to
struggle to keep up or risk losing him.  As an established dominant,
Erestor should have recognized the signs and put a stop to the
behavior.  His feelings toward Glorfindel prevented him from wanting
to do anything to jeopardize their relationship, though.

IX.  Blame

Many times throughout the writing of this fic, I received floods of
emails either demanding that Erestor take responsibility for his
horrible actions or demanding that Glorfindel stand up to Erestor and
kick his ass.  Everyone wanted to blame Erestor.

And I can't say that wasn't intentional.  I deliberately told things
from Erestor's point of view, dropping Glorfindel's POV out of the
narrative entirely once he began falling too deeply into his
submission.  The initial impression is that Erestor bullies Glorfindel
into this, goads him into pushing his limits, and gets off on his
mastery.  Without Glorfindel's input, we don't see how he willingly
sacrifices his own identity.  Erestor's thoughts and feelings
overshadow the fact that Glorfindel *never* withdraws his consent.

Traditional stories like to identify the "good guy" and the "bad guy". 
The bad guy is the one in the black hat trying to ruin the good guy's
life.  Real life is rarely so cut and dried, though.  Blame almost
never solely rests with one person; everyone involved in a situation
must accept some measure of responsibility. 

In the story, the responsibility must be shared between Glorfindel,
Erestor, Elrond, and to a lesser degree, Elladan.  Glorfindel pushed
Erestor to continue punishing him; Erestor was too afraid of appearing
weak to put a stop to things; Elrond had too much decorum to step in
even though he knew things were unhealthy; and Elladan pushed Erestor
to lay all the responsibility with Glorfindel and deny his own part in
the unpleasantness.

In any event, my hope is that the writers of those emails have seen
that placing the blame was ultimately less important than ensuring
that everyone involved admitted their part in what happened and
learned to better themselves as a result.

X. Infidelity

There was one chapter that spawned a host of emails demanding
Erestor's head on a plate, one chapter that was a throwaway chapter,
not even in the original outline for this story -- he assists Celeborn
with his session with Haldir.  While I fully admit Erestor was
unfaithful, I must stress that Glorfindel knew of the infidelity.  In
Chapter Eight, Erestor's narrative says:

	"He had not spoken to Glorfindel of his time with Celeborn and
Haldir, and the Elda had not asked about it. There were times when he
thought he saw a shadow in the azure eyes of his lover as they
regarded him, and Erestor would feel the need to pull Glorfindel into
his arms and love him long into the night."

Erestor suspected Glorfindel knew of his activities with Celeborn and
Haldir -- and he had every reason to believe Glorfindel knew.  Elves
do share the ability to telepathically communicate, I do not feel that
it would be too far fetched to say that Glorfindel always 'feels'
Erestor, and Erestor always 'feels' Glorfindel.  I did not go into
that within the story since the infidelity was never to be a minor
plot point.  Ever.  Suffice it to say, Glorfindel knew and chose not
to say anything, be his reasoning that Celeborn talked him into it,
that Glorfindel felt he somehow deserved the treatment, or that he
simply did not care.

As for the other three instances of 'infidelity', I feel I must also
remind the readers that when Erestor took Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir
to his bed, he had already terminated his relationship with
Glorfindel.  When Glorfindel allowed Elrond to take him, this was
still in effect -- Erestor had Elladan inform Glorfindel that the
relationship was over.  This removed all boundaries of fidelity from
both parties, and thus, 'cheating' could not have occurred.

XI.  Polyamory: Many Loves

There is another minor theme in this story that was very subtly dealt
with, and therefore, largely missed.  Polyamory is a large part of my
life, and so I felt it necessary to work in a nod to that lifestyle. 
Elrond's love for Erestor did not have to stop simply because of his
marriage to Celebrían.  Celebrían and Elrond are secure enough in
their relationship and their level of trust to feel that neither felt
any reticence or were threatened in any way by allowing Elrond to give
Erestor the comfort that he needed.  The twins relationship as well
was just as established and secure, so there was never any fear about
inviting Erestor into their bed.

In the case of Celeborn and Haldir, the concept of open, honest,
consensual non-monogamy is also shown.  In the companion piece "The
Bridge We Cross", it's shown that Galadriel is very supportive of her
husband's secondary relationship and gave her blessing to the
commitment ceremony.  When Celeborn invites Erestor into the playroom
during his stay in Lórien, it is because his relationship with Haldir
is stable and open, and Haldir consents (and is in fact eager) to
share himself with both Elves.

The core of infidelity is not sex outside of a relationship.  The core
of infidelity is dishonesty.  Sex outside of an established
relationship -- indeed, entire relationships outside of an established
relationship -- can be handled openly and honestly between all
partners involved and can be successful.  Once again, as with most
themes in this story, the key is honesty.

XII.  Conclusion

If you have stuck it out to this point -- congratulations.  I commend
you for your dedication to my story and to my commentary.  :)  And it
is here that I conclude my soapbox ramble on my story, BDSM and the
fandom.

This story has taken me close to 8 months to complete.  It has been an
emotional roller coaster and a great drain of my emotions.  It is also
one of my greatest accomplishments.  I set out to create a world to
show all of you *my* world, and I would like to think I have.  Erestor
and Glorfindel suffered greatly for their doubts and demons, but in
the end, their love was great enough to overcome those obstacles.  I
can only hope that most relationships find a fraction of the happiness
Erestor and Glorfindel were able to achieve through their suffering.

Thank you -- all of you -- for joining me on this journey.

I also want to say that a great portion of this fiction was inspired
by George Michael's "Father Figure".  Upon hearing that song, I saw
everything, from start to finish, from Erestor's point of view.  That
song speaks of his needs, his desires and his expectations of this
relationship.  As the story progressed, though, I found two other
songs that aided in the creation of this tale.  "Figured You Out" by
Nickelback is also from Erestor's viewpoint, how slowly the
relationship changed from something he treasured to something he
loathed.  And "Slave to Love" by Bryan Ferry -- this is more of a
general statement or mood for the end of this story, it expressed the
lengths they would go to in order to salvage what they once cherished.

I hope you have enjoyed this, I know I have, and I encourage you to,
now that you have read all this and the story is over, to go back and
reread "Something Special, Something Sacred".  Armed with my
reasoning, my views and my statements, and without pause for chapters,
the story may now make more sense, may now have more impact, than when
everyone initially began to read it.

Thank you.

Orchyd Constyne
August 28, 2004
9:16pm EST