Title:  To Feel You Breathe (4/6)
Series:  The Games of Love (formerly Winner Takes All).  Unless you’re familiar with 
the series, many of the references in this story may not make sense.
Author:  Fimbrethiel
Website:  Iavas e Guren ~ http://fimbrethiel.com
LiveJournal:  http://www.livejournal.com/users/fimbrethiel/
Fiction update list:  http://groups.yahoo.com/group/FanSfictionupdates
Email:  fimbrethiel @ yahoo.com
Type:  FPS 
Pairing:  Erestor/Glorfindel
Rating:  NC-17
Warnings:  explicit depictions of homoerotic acts between consenting males, cavity-
inducing FLUFF!
Disclaimer:  Don’t own the Elves, they are owned by Tolkien’s estate.  Master Tolkien, I 
mean no harm.  No profit has been made.
Beta:  Minuial Nuwing *massive hugs*  Any remaining errors are mine.
Summary:  After millennia, and some misunderstandings, Erestor and Glorfindel finally 
bond.  This is the final installment in the Games of Love series.
Author’s Note:  For the Giant Pink Fluffy!bunny gang.  You know who you are.  ;)  

My deepest gratitude and much love to Miss SayAye for allowing me to use her artwork 
as inspiration for this story.  http://fimbrethiel.com/artwork/SayAye/SoulMates.JPG
  
The previous parts in this series can be found here: 
http://fimbrethiel.com/fiction/gamesoflove.htm

*~*~*~*~*

Descending the main staircase into the front hallway, Erestor stepped onto the lower 
landing and turned to step onto the last flight of stairs, and pulled up short, making 
Arwen, closely following, yelp in surprise and clutch at the banister to steady herself.  He 
let out a long breath.

“Sweet ever-loving Eru,” he whispered.

Near a side entrance of the Great Hall, Glorfindel was leaning against the wall, speaking 
to Elladan and Elrohir, and laughing quietly at something one of the twins had said.  
Hearing Arwen’s sudden squeak of distress, he turned inquisitively toward the staircase 
and his laughter died in his throat.  He looked up the stairs, wide-eyed, and with nary a 
word to his companions, broke away and walked toward the staircase as though in a daze.

Erestor met him at the foot of the stairs, stopping on the last tread.  For the longest time, 
he said not a word, his eyes roaming his betrothed’s tall frame and broad shoulders.  
Glorfindel was clad in a robe of the same shimmering white, similarly cut to his own, but 
adorned with sparkling threads of gold and silver, seed pearls, and chips of crystal that 
caught the light and flared like starbursts.  His golden mane was swept haphazardly back 
from his face, a few unruly tendrils spilling from the loose braid caught at the nape of his 
neck and bound mid-length with a sparkling silver clasp.  He looked like sunlight and 
cream and all of the most good and beautiful things in the world wrapped into one, with 
an air of danger and mystery thrown in for good measure.  He was incredible.  And in a 
very short time, Glorfindel was going to be his.  

For perhaps the thousandth time since their betrothal, Erestor whispered a silent prayer of 
gratitude to The Weaver.  He was certainly the luckiest Elf in the entire history of Arda.

“You clean up nicely, Seneschal,” Erestor murmured, finally raising his gaze to meet blue 
eyes looking back at him, alight with love and happiness.  “In fact, I am almost afraid to 
marry you, for I fear that next to your beauty, I shall be found lacking.”

“No.”

“No?”

“If you think, for one solitary moment, that I put myself at the mercy of those two,” 
Glorfindel jerked his head in the twins’ direction, his eyes flashing, “only for you back 
out now, I swear I will – “  

At last, he noticed the flicker of humor in his lover’s dark eyes, and groaned.  “That was 
not funny, Erestor.  My heart nearly stopped when I thought you might be reconsidering.”

Erestor bent down and kissed him gently, sweetly.  “Nothing short of death would keep 
me away, my love.  Never doubt it for a moment.”

Glorfindel’s eyes softened.  “Well, in that case, I suppose you can be forgiven.  You look 
ravishing, darling.”  He lowered his voice to a husky whisper.  “Good enough to eat.”

Erestor felt heat rise to his face, among other places.  Glorfindel was not the only one to 
have suffered all through that long, lonely week.

“Is that a threat, or a promise?”

“Nay, my love; that is a guarantee.”

“Glorfindel, have you been drinking?” Erestor’s eyes narrowed.

“Just a nip to calm my nerves, melethron.  I assure you I intend to remain in full 
possession of all my faculties for our wedding night.”

Elladan, joining them, closely followed by his brother, made a retching sound.  “I think I 
liked you better when you were at each other’s throats all the time.”

“Elladan – “

Elrond’s warning ringing through the front hall was enough to cut off the elder twin’s 
words, and he turned sheepish eyes to his companions.  “Sorry.”

Elrond strode across the hall, carrying two wooden boxes, and made his way to the group 
gathered at the foot of the stairs.  Elrohir held his arm to his sister and she stepped lightly 
off the stairs and stood beside her father.  The Elf-knight rested his hand upon her arm.  
She looked over her shoulder at him and smiled, then turned to her father.

Elrond glanced at his children, and when they returned his expectant look with tiny nods, 
passed one box to Elladan and one to Arwen.

“Customarily, a gift is bestowed to the couple after the vows are spoken, but since your 
courtship has, even from the beginning, gone against all convention, I think we can 
dispense with that bit of tradition.”

“Run, Erestor, quickly.  I smell a conspiracy,” Glorfindel whispered loudly.

“Get the gift first, then run,” Erestor whispered back.

Elrond sighed.  “Will you two please be serious?”  His lip twitched, belying the sober 
tone of his voice.

“Yes, my Lord,” the duly chastised pair replied together, though the solemn effect was 
marred when they met eyes and winked, a hint of a smile on their lips. 

Elrond cleared his throat pointedly.  “As I was saying…On behalf of my family and 
myself, please accept these, with our love and best wishes.”

Reaching into the box that Elladan held, Elrond removed a delicate circlet of silver, set 
with sapphires and rubies.  At the center was a jewel of deep gray-green, faceted so 
cunningly that it glinted and reflected flashes of fire from the heart of the stone.  He 
turned to Glorfindel first and set the circlet on his golden head, then kissed both his 
cheeks.  Turning to Arwen, he received from her a second circlet, similar to the first but 
studded with crystal, and placed it gently on Erestor’s head.

It was unnecessary to explain the importance of his family’s gift.  Though these were 
wrought of silver and more abundant of decoration than the Peredhil’s own of gold and 
mithril, Elrond’s meaning was clear.

Erestor looked at Glorfindel, and Glorfindel looked back at Erestor, both at a loss for 
words.  How could one properly respond to such a gesture?  Through war, death, and 
strife they had been, bound not only by duty and allegiance, but by love and friendship.  
The circlets signified utter acceptance, not only as lifelong associates and allies, but as 
family.

“For one of the rare times in my life, words have escaped me,” Erestor said, clasping 
Elrond’s wrist.  “Thank you… brother.”

Glorfindel would have made some sort of reply, but his throat was curiously tight, so he 
simply nodded and clasped Elrond’s hand tightly, not trusting his voice.

“Sneak.” Erestor smiled at Arwen, giving her a brief squeeze.  “That fuss about my hair?”

She giggled and hugged Erestor back, then Glorfindel.  “I am so very happy for you both.  
May the blessings of the Valar light your way.”

Lindir and Lothvaen clattered down the stairs arm in arm, followed by Gildor Inglorion, 
escorting his lady and walking more slowly.  Gildor and his rag-tag band of wanderers 
had returned unlooked for to the Hidden Vale a few days prior, to find the household of 
Elrond Half-elven in a bustle of activity.  Gildor had near laughed himself senseless (an 
occurrence both humorous and mildly disconcerting, when coming from a normally 
placid being such as the ancient gypsy-Elf) to learn the shocking news that the two Elves 
he would have been least likely to have imagined together, were actually together and 
about to be wedded.  After finally regaining control of himself and becoming able to 
speak coherently, he promised his old friends that he would not miss their bonding 
ceremony for all the riches in all the dragons’ hoards in the history of Arda.

When all the group had gathered, Glorfindel wrapped his arm around Erestor and pulled 
him close, brushing a kiss against his temple.  “It is time.  Are you ready, love?”

“More than ready.”

“Then let us wait no longer.”  Taking Erestor’s arm, they led the procession through the 
arched front door and out into the brisk winter night.

Elrond followed, leading Arwen by the hand, and the rest fell in behind.  

“That went well, I think,” Elrohir said quietly to his twin, as they closed the door behind 
them.  “I will simply try not to think about the fact that they are now kin.”

“You have no qualm about bedding kin, tôren,” Elladan teased, linking their arms 
together as they stepped off the wind-swept stones of the walkway and onto the 
hardpacked snow of the garden path and into the woods beyond.

“Bedding a twin, no, and especially my twin,” the Elf-knight corrected, pausing when one 
of his braids snagged on a wayward branch across the path.  “Bedding kin, whether by 
blood or no, would be altogether too close for comfort.”

Elladan laughed and carefully disentangled his brother’s crimson-beaded braid, then gave 
it a gentle tug.  “Sometimes you make no sense, but I love you anyway.” 

*~*~* to be continued *~*~*


Elvish translations and notes:

melethron = lover (male)

tôren = my brother

Even from the beginning, Celebrían wove crimson beads into Elrohir’s braids and left Elladan’s unadorned.  
It was the only way that most of the folk of Imladris could tell the two apart, so alike they were.  The twins 
kept the routine even when grown.  Unless they wanted to play a prank on someone and switch, which they 
did often.  *grin*