Title: The Undiscovered Country, 6/? Author: Larien Elengasse Type: FPS Characters: Legolas/Síreranu (OMC), Glorfindel/Erestor, Elladan/Elrohir, Rúmil/Galen (OMC) Rating: NC-17 Beta: Fimbrethiel Archives: Rhovanion, OEAM, Mirrormere, Glorfindel of Imladris & Melethryn. All others please ask. WARNING: Graphic depictions of sexual acts between two males, angst and incest. Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they are the property of JRR Tolkien and his estate, and I am sure he would be horrified if he read this… Feedback: If you like, larienelengasse@yahoo.com Author's Notes: Eighth and final story in the "Love in a Time of War" arc. Set in the Fourth Age, in Valinor, after the departure of the last of the members of the Fellowship. The title is taken from Hamlet's soliloquy, "To Be or Not To Be". Many thanks to Claudio for his Quenya name generator on the Elf Fetish website for "Síreranu", hopefully I didn't mess up in the construction. Summary: Legolas seeks Glorfindel's council. Legolas walked up the long, twisting path toward the home that Glorfindel and Erestor had built. He smiled as he looked at the flagstones set in the soil, surrounded by tiny white and yellow flowers. The fact that Erestor had turned into such a domestic was an endless source of both fascination and amusement to him; many years ago, he never would have guessed that the serious and often cantankerous Chief Advisor to Master Elrond would be so content with simple delights such as gardening. "No wonder he got on so famously with Samwise," Legolas murmured to himself. "Legolas!" He heard his name and looked up to see a shirtless Glorfindel waving at him from the back of a blue roan. The horse looked young and still a bit awkward, so he surmised it must have been getting one of its first lessons in carrying a rider. He raised his hand in return, and then watched in both surprise and amusement as the horse reared and Glorfindel slid off its back to be deposited in the tall grass. The source of the horse's fright was soon revealed as Legolas heard the echoing bellow of a horn and the answering bray of hounds. He turned quickly to see none other than Oromë himself charging through the fields on his great white stallion, Nahar, followed by a pack of the largest hounds he had ever seen. The Vala was breathtaking, wholly different from Elves, though they shared similar traits such as long hair and pointed ears. Oromë's hair was a color that defied explanation, seeming at one moment to be white, at others to be golden as the sun as it cascaded down his back in thick, wild waves. He was tall, impressive in stature, with piercing eyes that harkened to the great Eagles, and a strong jaw. Handsome was a word that did not do him justice; all who looked upon Oromë were stunned into silence. All except Glorfindel, of course. Oromë stopped, leaning down and offering Glorfindel a hand as he made his apologies. Legolas could not help but notice the smile on the Vala's lips as Glorfindel chuckled and shook his head, then dusted off his breeches. This was a game they played regularly, Legolas surmised. Oromë then turned, nodded and smiled at Legolas, then galloped off into the trees. "Does that happen often?" Legolas asked as he accepted Glorfindel's proffered hand. "Oh, only every fortnight or so, I suppose," Glorfindel answered with a grin, shaking Legolas' hand. "It took Erestor years to grow accustomed to it, despite the fact that we lived not too far from here when we were young. I think he has cursed every one of the Valar under his breath since we have been here, though we both know, as do they, that he does not mean it." "He is most impressive, the first one of the Valar I have seen since I have been here," Legolas returned. "And most likely the only one you will see, as the others prefer to stay in their respective homes. Oromë's home is all the fields of Aman, so he wanders often." Glorfindel smiled broadly. "You are looking well, my friend; life in the Undying Lands agrees with you, yes?" Legolas could not suppress the smile that curved his lips. "Recently, yes." Glorfindel motioned toward the house with a nod of his head. "Come, Erestor will be delighted to see you." He whistled to his young mare, which had trotted some distance away to give Nahar and the following hounds a wide berth. The mare nickered and began following her master at a brisk walk. "You are staying to share the evening meal with us, of course; Erestor always makes enough food to feed an army." Legolas laughed. "Of course; I could never pass up the opportunity to see Erestor in his element." Glorfindel smiled as he placed his hand upon Legolas' back. "In all seriousness, how are you my friend?" Legolas' smile faded somewhat. "I miss Gimli terribly, but I am glad he died in peace." Glorfindel nodded. "It is difficult when those we love go where we cannot follow." "Aye," Legolas answered. "But I have the feeling he is in good company." Glorfindel smiled. "Aye, very good company." "Legolas Thranduilion, what a pleasure to see you!" Legolas looked up to see Erestor wiping his hands on an apron tied around his waist. The one-time Councilor stood upon the wide veranda of the stately country home, his hair tied in a simple ponytail and his shirt open at the neck. Legolas had to admit, there was something very alluring about this more relaxed, casual Erestor. He could see why Glorfindel had been so hopelessly attracted to him for so long. Glorfindel mounted the steps to their home and took Erestor into his arms, placing a sound and lingering kiss upon his mate's lips. Erestor smiled as Glorfindel released him, then began dusting the blades of grass off his mate's backside. "I see Oromë has been for a visit again," Erestor remarked. Glorfindel winked at Legolas, then answered his mate, "Aye, did you not hear the horn?" "Oh, I heard it. How could anyone not hear it? Considering that there are no men or yrch here with less than perfect hearing, one would think that he would have a quieter horn. What does he need the horn for anyway? Are his hounds hard of hearing?" Glorfindel laughed and shook his head. "Come, my cantankerous beloved, let us show our guest the house." Legolas chuckled as he climbed the stairs and embraced Erestor. "'Tis good to see you, Erestor." Erestor gave Legolas a squeeze. "Good to see you as well, my friend." Legolas looked around at the home Erestor and Glorfindel had built together; it was a reflection of their distinct and different tastes blended together to create a warm, elegant and welcoming atmosphere. Amongst the hand-woven tapestries and shelves of books that rose high above the floor, there were displays of armaments from Glorfindel's many years as a warrior. A replica of the armor he wore in Gondolin hung upon a stand in one corner; above it was a reproduction of the banner of his house. Nearby was a large desk with maps of Beleriand and Middle-earth, and the banner for the House of Elrond hung over the mantle. There was the standard of Gil-galad, a tapestry depicting Lindon and one of Imladris. Their whole lives were represented on the walls and in the books and maps that populated the space. One could not help but feel the history these two Eldar had seen. The fireplace was enormous, as was the room itself. The main room was nearly as large as the Hall of Fire, with vaulted ceilings that reached the second floor. A gently arching staircase led to the bedchambers, and there was a bathing closet off the entryway. On the opposite side of the staircase from the main room was Erestor's office, which had glass paned doors that led out to a stone patio. Legolas stepped through the doorway that led from the great room into the expansive kitchen, complete with a large table in the center of the room, upon which Erestor prepared their meals. Pots hung from racks suspended from the ceiling, and a great stove stood in the corner and was vented out the wall. A large pot was simmering upon the stovetop, and Legolas could smell herbs and garlic along with vegetables. A pheasant was roasting in a clay pot inside the large brick oven built into the wall. It was a kitchen built for a master chef, something Erestor had wanted for as long as he could remember. Legolas pulled up a stool and sat at the large table as Glorfindel stepped through an oak door that led to the wine cellar. Erestor smiled as he placed a glass of wine in front of Legolas, then picked up his own and took a sip. "How are you, Legolas?" "I am well," Legolas answered. "I still miss Gimli, but I am coming to terms with his absence." Erestor nodded. "I understand; I miss the Halflings as well. They were often guests at our home; Samwise loved to work in my garden." Legolas offered a smile of understanding, and then plucked a slice of warm bread from a basket in front of him. He selected a slice of cheese from the tray that Erestor slid over. "You look well," Erestor said quietly as he observed Legolas. "Something has changed, has it not?" Legolas smiled and nodded, setting his glass of wine upon the table. "Aye. I think I have found him, Erestor." "What?" Glorfindel stepped back into the room as Legolas made his announcement. "Where?" "On Tol Eressëa, where Gimli and I have been waiting. Gimli told me not to stop going, he told me that he would come. My friend was right." Erestor took the bottle of wine from Glorfindel's hand and opened it as his mate sat down next to Legolas. "Only he does not look as he did before. I believe my father's spirit is embodied in the form of a Vanya." Glorfindel frowned as he listened to Legolas' tale of wading into the water and being rescued by this mysterious Vanya. While Legolas did not relay the details of the experience, Glorfindel guessed that more had transpired. He had no proof of Legolas' feelings for Thranduil, but he had often suspected that they were deeper than what a son feels for a father. After a brief moment of silence, he spoke. "Most often, those who return from Mandos' Halls are brought back in a form that is most like what they remember. Their original bodies are left behind; in your father's case, burned, as was the custom of your people. However, the form given comes from the memories of the spirit, and they return whole. In other words, it is more of a reawakening than a rebirth, as they enter this land in adult form. This body is not the body I was born with, but it is what I remember from before my death. In my second lifetime, I was not an elfling, but I awoke and re-entered Middle-earth with this body. What you describe is different. This elf was conceived, born and raised with a family. He has a life that is his own, yet he carries your father's memories." Legolas frowned. "Why would it be different?" Glorfindel shook his head. "I do not know. While I have experienced rebirth, the reasons and methods of Mandos are not for me to know fully. If this is indeed your father, reborn, then you must tread carefully, Legolas. He is already struggling with memories he does not understand. While helping him to understand them will bring some peace, to hear that he is not who he thought he was his entire life will be a shock." Legolas nodded and swallowed his wine. "I understand. My initial instincts were correct then, to refrain from speaking of my suspicions?" Erestor nodded. "Aye. We must be sure before you tell him what you know, Legolas. What if you are wrong?" "I am not wrong. I know with every fiber of my being that Síreranu's eyes are my father's eyes, that his dreams are my father's memories." He sighed. "How can we get proof?" Erestor and Glorfindel looked at one another for a moment, then Erestor continued. "Take him to see Galadriel. She will know, she can see inside what others cannot." "Of course!" Legolas answered. "The Lady will know. She was with him when he died, she has seen into his heart and his spirit. She will know him." "And she will not be influenced by her own desires," Glorfindel added. "You have waited for him for a long time, Legolas. We must be sure that you are not seeing what you want to see. Síreranu's happiness is at stake." Legolas nodded. "You are right, Glorfindel. As much as I want this to be true, I could never hurt Síreranu, not after what he has done for me." "I hope it is him," Erestor said softly. "You deserve to find him again, and I know he would want to find you. Never has a father loved his son more or been more proud." Legolas smiled and reached across the table, squeezing Erestor's hand. "Thank you, Erestor." Erestor smiled in return and bowed his head, then turned and attended to their meal. To be continued… Title: The Undiscovered Country, 7/? Author: Larien Elengasse Type: FPS Characters: Legolas/Síreranu (OMC), Glorfindel/Erestor, Elladan/Elrohir, Rúmil/Galen (OMC) Rating: NC-17 Beta: Fimbrethiel Archives: Rhovanion, OEAM, Mirrormere, Glorfindel of Imladris & Melethryn. All others please ask. WARNING: Graphic depictions of sexual acts between two males, angst and incest. Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they are the property of JRR Tolkien and his estate, and I am sure he would be horrified if he read this… Feedback: If you like, larienelengasse@yahoo.com Author's Notes: Eighth and final story in the "Love in a Time of War" arc. Set in the Fourth Age, in Valinor, after the departure of the last of the members of the Fellowship. The title is taken from Hamlet's soliloquy, "To Be or Not To Be". Many thanks to Claudio for his Quenya name generator on the Elf Fetish website for "Síreranu", hopefully I didn't mess up in the construction. Summary: Erestor and Glorfindel reflect on Legolas' visit. Legolas returns to Tol Eressëa. Erestor sat at the dressing table, slowly drawing a brush through his hair. His thoughts were occupied by the conversation they shared with Legolas, and something he had been reluctant to say was nagging at him. In the mirror, he saw Glorfindel removing his robe. He watched the slow rippling of muscles in his beloved's back, admired how Glorfindel's skin danced over the taut curves of his body. He could not imagine being deprived of Glorfindel's love, nor could he imagine the profound pain and heartbreak he would experience should something happen to his lion. "I love you," he said as he turned and faced his mate. Glorfindel smiled and tossed the robe upon a chair, striding toward him, resplendent in his nakedness. Erestor watched as Glorfindel turned his chair, then gracefully sank to his knees in front of him, placing his strong hands upon his thighs. Erestor reached out, caressing Glorfindel's cheek, his thumb brushing over his mate's cheekbone. "I love you, my raven," Glorfindel answered in his deep, honeyed voice. "'Tis a wonder he survived it," Erestor said softly. "I never would have…" Glorfindel cocked his head. "So you share my suspicions then?" Erestor nodded. "I do. ‘Tis one thing for a son to grieve his father; that is something that is natural and part of the chain of life. But the grief that nearly took Legolas, that aged him so, that was no son's grief." "And did you see how beautiful he was this night? How his hair shone as it once did long ago, how his eyes sparkled in the candlelight? He has been reborn as well, in spirit if not in form." "I know the love he feels, Glorfindel, and I can only imagine the heartache he has suffered these many, many years." "Perhaps that is why Thranduil's spirit was returned in another's form, so that they can finally share the love they have both felt without the confusion that would have come otherwise," Glorfindel replied. "Galadriel will know if it is him. I suspect she has known about their love all this time; there are few things she does not see." Glorfindel wrapped his arms around Erestor's waist and leaned his head against his mate's chest. "I hope this brings both of them peace, the Valar know that Legolas deserves it." Glorfindel closed his eyes as Erestor stroked his hair. "I would not survive it either, my love. I cannot, I will not, live without you." Erestor bent down and placed a kiss upon the crown of Glorfindel's head. "You won't have to, my lion." Erestor closed his eyes as Glorfindel opened his robe. The feel of his beloved's hands upon his skin was what he lived for. His head fell back as Glorfindel's hands roamed his chest and abdomen, and soft moans began to issue from his lips as his lion's mouth gently found his right nipple. He opened his legs wider, slipping down in the chair slightly as he wadded his fists in Glorfindel's mass of golden hair. "I love you," he murmured over and over, as Glorfindel worked his body into a heightened state of arousal. "I never grow tired of the way you taste," Glorfindel purred as he laved Erestor's nipple with his tongue. "Nor do I tire of how you respond to my touch." "That feels so good," Erestor replied breathlessly as he arched into his lover's mouth. He undulated and moaned as Glorfindel's mouth moved lower, finally settling into his lap and teasing his turgid arousal with his tongue. Erestor groaned as Glorfindel engulfed him; surrounded by wet heat, he slowly began rocking his hips forward as his grip tightened on his mate's hair. Glorfindel moaned deeply, sending vibrations along his length as he bent his knees, draping them over his lion's shoulders. "Yes," he murmured as he rolled his hips back and forth, thrusting shallowly into Glorfindel's wet embrace. He could feel Glorfindel's fingers tighten on his hips as the strokes increased and he began rocking deeper and faster. Locking his ankles together, he whimpered as his lover's fingers breached his body, and his head fell back to rest on the top of the chair as he surrendered himself completely. His moans intensified as Glorfindel relentlessly stroked that place inside him that turned his blood to fire, and he cried out as he spilled himself down Glorfindel's throat. He trembled as Glorfindel licked him clean before moving his mouth to his entrance. As Glorfindel's tongue entered him, he began to beg, "Please, for Elbereth's sake, Glorfindel…" A nip to the tender skin near his seat bone caused him to grasp the arms of the wide chair. "Patience, my raven," Glorfindel murmured. "I am not nearly finished with you." Erestor moaned as Glorfindel returned to his ministrations, his arousal once again rigid and weeping. His beloved's tongue slid in and out, causing him to writhe with need in the chair. Glorfindel rose, holding Erestor's legs upon his shoulders, and Erestor felt his lover's arousal nudge his entrance. "This is how I want you," Glorfindel murmured against Erestor's open mouth. "Undone and wanton, submissive…" Erestor threaded his fingers through Glorfindel's golden locks. "Enjoy it while you can, my love," he replied breathlessly. "For I will have my due." Glorfindel laughed huskily. "I do not doubt that," he responded, and then he entered his mate's body in one smooth thrust. "Ai, gods, Glorfindel!" Erestor shouted as he arched against his mate. "Mmm… are you well, my love?" Glorfindel murmured against the sweat-slicked flesh of Erestor's neck. Erestor was filled to the brim with only a cursory preparation. It was not painful, but it had been a shock; Glorfindel normally took his time when entering him. His mate's arousal stretched and filled him, pulsing inside his body. Erestor answered through his clenched jaw, "Why hesitate? I can hardly resist in this position." "Indeed," Glorfindel growled, and he began riding Erestor's body. He grasped the back of the chair as he drove deep inside his mate, forgoing the slow, often leisurely pace that was his wont. Erestor's cries drove him on, and he pressed his forehead into his mate's shoulder. He could see his beloved's arousal rolling against his stomach, engorged and weeping ceaselessly. Intercepting Erestor's hands, he grasped them by the wrists and held them against the back of the chair. Erestor struggled half-heartedly to free his arms as Glorfindel rode him with abandon. It had been years uncounted since his mate had taken him so thoroughly and so possessively. Despite the unfamiliarity, Erestor found the experience to be completely erotic. He could not move from the neck down; Glorfindel held his wrists tightly, and his body was placed into submission by his position. He could only wait for the inevitable fall that would succeed their climax. He felt it roaring forth inside him, building in wave upon wave as it ravaged his body. Crying out, he arched against Glorfindel as his seed splashed his stomach, then felt Glorfindel's essence fill him as his mate growled deeply into his ear. He barely registered the change in his position; all he could feel was the tingling heat that filled him and the luxurious kisses his mate showered upon his trembling and sweating body. He allowed Glorfindel to gather him into his arms and carry him into the bath, then sighed as he sank into the warm water. He was thankful for the fact that Glorfindel took inordinately hot baths, as the water was still warm, even after their bout of lovemaking. He sat forward just long enough to allow Glorfindel to slip in behind him, then leaned back against his beloved's chest. He turned his head as Glorfindel's lips caressed the curve of his ear. "Truly, are you well, Erestor? Did I hurt you?" "No, you did not hurt me, my love," Erestor murmured sleepily. "It was wonderful. Though, I may be a little sore upon the morrow." Glorfindel chuckled and squeezed his raven's waist. "Now you know how I feel most nights." Erestor chuckled as well then snuggled back against his mate's body. "Mmm… I love you, my lion," he murmured. Glorfindel tucked the fall of raven hair behind Erestor's ear. "I love you as well, my Erestor." * * * * Síreranu waved as he saw Legolas' boat approach, then tossed his robe upon the rock where his kingly lover had so often sat, before wading into the waves, then swimming out to meet Legolas. Legolas laughed as Síreranu swam alongside his small boat and grasped the side. "Could you not wait until I landed?" he asked with a broad grin. "I am afraid not," Síreranu answered with a smile. "I am through waiting." Legolas reached down and caressed Síreranu's face. "So am I." He paddled slowly as his beloved swam next to his boat with one hand upon the side. Síreranu helped him beach his small boat then he laughed as he was swept up into his lover's wet arms. "I hardly slept the last two nights, waiting for you," Síreranu murmured into Legolas' ear. "Nor did I," Legolas replied softly. "It feels so good to be here again, to be in your arms." "I am getting you wet, my lord." Síreranu chuckled. "A little water never hurt anyone," Legolas responded with a grin. "Though I must insist that you remove these wet garments from my person immediately." "With pleasure," Síreranu answered as he threw Legolas over his shoulder. "Ai!" Legolas cried, then laughed aloud, his voice ringing among the trees as he was carried into the forest. * * * * Elrohir sighed as the petals of the orchid caressed his bare skin. His eyes closed, his head inclined back, he arched into the sensation, a smile curving his lips. "That feels so good," he murmured, then he moaned softly as the tips of Elladan's hair brushed his chest. "I am glad," Elladan answered as he took in his beloved's form with his eyes. "By Elbereth, you are so beautiful, Elrohir…" "'Tis you who makes me so," Elrohir answered breathlessly. "I have been lost to you for as long as I can remember," Elladan continued. "I have always known I loved you, that I wanted to protect you, but when we came of majority, when you no longer looked like a child…" Elrohir smiled. "I remember when I first noticed it, the way you looked at me. The predatory look in your eye frightened me at first, then it excited me beyond reason. It was so difficult to focus on our lessons with you gazing at me over the top of your book." "The way your eyes would grow wide, then darken a shade, as if you knew what would eventually happen between us…" Elladan sighed. "No wonder I could find interest in no other." Elrohir gathered Elladan into his arms, pulling his twin on top of him. He tucked Elladan's hair behind his ears and smiled. "I love you, Elladan. My heart belongs to you and only to you." Elladan smiled. He knew Elrohir felt the need to confirm this after he had spent so many years wanting what could no longer be. "I know, Elrohir," he answered softly. "I have always known." He pressed a brief, soft kiss to his brother's lips. "You are my heart and my soul, you are the best part of me, Elrohir." He then kissed his twin soundly and made love to him as the afternoon waned. To be continued… Title: The Undiscovered Country, 8/? Author: Larien Elengasse Type: FPS Characters: Legolas/Síreranu (OMC), Glorfindel/Erestor, Elladan/Elrohir, Rúmil/Galen (OMC) Rating: NC-17 Beta: Fimbrethiel Archives: Rhovanion, OEAM, Mirrormere, Glorfindel of Imladris & Melethryn. All others please ask. WARNING: Graphic depictions of sexual acts between two males, angst and incest. Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they are the property of JRR Tolkien and his estate, and I am sure he would be horrified if he read this… Feedback: If you like, larienelengasse@yahoo.com Author's Notes: Eighth and final story in the "Love in a Time of War" arc. Set in the Fourth Age, in Valinor, after the departure of the last of the members of the Fellowship. The title is taken from Hamlet's soliloquy, "To Be or Not To Be". Many thanks to Claudio for his Quenya name generator on the Elf Fetish website for "Síreranu", hopefully I didn't mess up in the construction. Summary: Legolas comes to a decision; Elladan and Elrohir play games. Legolas sighed as he turned his head and rested it upon Síreranu's shoulder. They watched the gulls circle overhead, gliding and dancing upon the current. Anor shone brightly and the sky was that perfect color of blue that matched Síreranu's eyes. The air was cool and crisp, carrying the smell of pine and cedar upon the breeze. Síreranu wrapped the blanket tighter around them; though neither was cold, he enjoyed the feeling of Legolas snuggled between his legs and bundled in the woolen blanket. His kingly lover had taken to spending several days at a time with him in their island sanctuary before returning to the mainland. They made love nearly every night, sometimes with long, lingering touches and deep, passionate kisses, and sometimes with a fierce hunger that would not be subdued. Yet for the myriad of ways they had touched and kissed, they had not yet shared that most intimate of acts. Síreranu was apprehensive about testing those waters, and it appeared Legolas felt the same way. He could not deny that it was something he greatly wished, to join with his beloved and linger inside him, to be as physically close as he could be to his Greenleaf. Legolas turned in his arms to lie on his side, then his lover hugged his waist tightly and burrowed against his chest. Síreranu tilted his head and pressed his cheek against Legolas' silken locks, and uttered a long, contented sigh. "This is nice," Legolas murmured, his voice slightly muffled by Síreranu's shoulder. "Very nice," Síreranu concurred. "I do not think I have ever known such peace," Legolas continued. "At least not since I have been an adult." Síreranu caressed Legolas' hair, gently combing his fingers through the long, flaxen strands. "You knew peace as an elfling?" he asked softly. "Aye," Legolas answered. "Though the world I lived in was not so peaceful. My father shielded me from the unrest and danger in the world, at least until I was old enough to combat it." "What do you remember about him?" Síreranu asked quietly. "Everything," Legolas answered without hesitation. "I remember his deep voice, his long, confident, easy stride. I remember his prowess on the battlefield, his cat-like reflexes and defiant stance. I remember his way with horses, how they all came to love him and give him their loyalty, as did all who knew him. He taught me to ride and how to prepare a horse to be ridden, he taught me to fire a bow and wield a sword, he watched protectively as I climbed my first tree and rode my first horse…" a sad smile curved Legolas' lips. "He was always so proud of me, and he always made sure that I knew it." "What did he look like? I have dreamt some of these things you speak of; I saw them in my dreams, but I never saw the one whose eyes I looked through." Always, the conversation came back to this: to Síreranu's dreams, which were really his father's memories. Legolas knew he had to take Síreranu to Galadriel soon; to be honest, he was not sure why he had not done so already. "He was taller than average and larger in build than most elves," he began. "His favorite weapons were the broadsword and the spear, so he was built to use them; he had a powerful upper body. His hair was like mine in color, as were his eyes. Many said we looked alike, that I resembled him more than my mother, though I am leaner and slighter of build than he was. He had a smile that could melt the coldest heart, and there were many who would quietly admire him from afar. He was beautiful in both a serene and frightening way; he could be quite intimidating when the occasion called for it, but he could also inspire such love and loyalty. Many of his warriors are loyal to him still, even though he passed." "If your love for him is evidence of his character, then he was a fine father and a most excellent king," Síreranu said quietly, placing a kiss upon the crown of Legolas' head. "He was…" Legolas whispered. "Does it make you sad to speak of him?" Síreranu asked. "Not anymore," Legolas answered. He shifted in his lover's arms and gazed up into Síreranu's eyes. "I love you," he said softly. "I love you, my Greenleaf," Síreranu answered as he caressed Legolas' face. "Are you certain?" "Aye, most certain. I am more certain of my love for you than I have been of anything my entire life." Legolas swallowed and shifted so that their lips were nearly touching. "When I kiss you, when you touch me, that is when I feel whole and at peace. It is as if my whole life I was searching for something, and I finally found it when I first touched you. "That is how I feel as well, my love," Síreranu answered. "Everything I have experienced until the moment I first saw you was meant to prepare me for this moment, when I would hold you in my arms and at long last tell you what you mean to me." "What do I mean to you?" Legolas whispered, his eyes closed as Síreranu's breath ghosted over his lips. "You are my life, my reason for being; without you, I am incomplete." He said it so matter of factly, as if there could simply be no other answer. The depth and certainty of Síreranu's love was another convincing factor as to his identity. No one had ever loved him that much, no one other than his father. "What I would not do for you," Legolas whispered. "There is no distance too far, no burden too heavy to carry for your love, for you…" Legolas kissed Síreranu deeply, and then murmured, "I have waited so long, so very long for this...so much pain, so much loneliness, so much death…it all matters naught now, for I have you. Your love is my reward." Síreranu moaned deeply into the kiss as Legolas shifted to straddle his lap. The king's long fingers massaged his scalp, his flaxen mane covered their faces and Síreranu wrapped it in his hands, luxuriating in its silkiness. Legolas' lean body rocked and undulated against him, both setting his heart free and turning his blood into liquid heat. "You play my body like a lyre, my love," he whispered. "You know me so well…" "I do know you, as well as I know myself," Legolas murmured against the soft flesh of Síreranu's neck. He slid his hand between his lover's legs and rolled his palm against the Vanya's turgid length. "I know you like this, I know that no one can touch you like I do, that no one will give everything to you the way I do…" "I would have everything," Síreranu whispered hoarsely. "And you shall," Legolas answered. "Take me home, my love," he whispered. Síreranu rolled over Legolas then rose to his knees, offering his lover his hand. He pulled Legolas to him and crushed him against his chest, his fingers clutching his lover's buttocks tightly. "I want you inside me," Legolas whispered into his ear. "I want to feel you inside me, where you belong." Síreranu rose to his feet and pulled Legolas up, kissing him deeply before leading him back into the woods and to his bed. * * * * Elrohir laughed aloud as he squirmed beneath Elladan, kicking wildly at the blankets upon the bed. "Ai! Elladan! Stop!" he giggled. "What is the matter, my pet? Ticklish?" Elladan crooned as he pinned Elrohir's wrists to the bed and nibbled just below his left earlobe. "You know I am!" Elrohir snorted. "Oh gods, Elladan, stop!" Elladan laughed then flicked the tip of his tongue beneath Elrohir's ear. "What will you give me to make me stop?" "What have I not given you already?" Elrohir answered breathlessly. "This morning?" Elladan teased. He ceased tormenting his twin and looked deep into Elrohir's eyes. His beloved's skin was flushed a delightful shade of pink, his full lips were wet and parted, his eyes just beginning to turn that shade of deep slate that betrayed his passion, and his hair, the mass of sable silk that crowned his head was tossed wildly upon the pillow. Elladan watched Elrohir's chest rise and fall with each panting breath, and he smiled. "A kiss," he answered. "Just a kiss?" Elrohir smiled. "Just a kiss," Elladan answered. "Very well, then." Elrohir reached for his twin with his mouth. Elladan evaded him briefly, enjoying the way Elrohir continued to pursue him, then he pressed his lips to his beloved and drank from Elrohir's mouth. He released Elrohir's wrists and allowed his younger brother to wrap his arms around him as he lay between Elrohir's legs. Elrohir sighed as Elladan released his mouth. "Mmm… I love you so," he murmured. "No more than I love you," Elladan answered. "Oh yes, quite a bit more, I think…" "That would be impossible, my love." "So argumentative…" Elrohir teased. "It is early yet, and I have not had my tea," Elladan responded. Elrohir chucked. "You make me so happy, Elladan." "Are you? Happy?" Elladan asked as he gazed into Elrohir's eyes. "Aye, most happy," Elrohir answered. "Even now that Legolas is rarely with us?" Elrohir nodded. "Aye. He has what he has wanted, and now it is time for me to let go of him." "You are most wise, little brother." Elladan smiled. Elrohir threaded his fingers through Elladan's hair. "I get that from you, you know." Elladan snorted. "Oh, is that where you get it from…" Elrohir brought his hand down sharply upon Elladan's backside, causing his elder twin to bark in surprise. "I am hungry, make me something to eat." He winked. "So demanding…" Elladan murmured, brushing his lips against Elrohir's before kissing him deeply. "As you wish, my prince," he whispered before rising and exiting the bed. Elrohir stretched, wincing a little from their exertions the night before, and admired his brother's nude form as Elladan strode across the room. He blew a kiss to Elladan as he watched his twin don his robe and leave for the kitchen. Yawning, he sank back beneath the covers and waited for his beloved to return. To be continued… Title: The Undiscovered Country, 9/? Author: Larien Elengasse Type: FPS Characters: Legolas/Síreranu (OMC), Glorfindel/Erestor, Elladan/Elrohir, Rúmil/Galen (OMC) Rating: NC-17 Beta: Fimbrethiel Archives: Rhovanion, OEAM, Mirrormere, Glorfindel of Imladris & Melethryn. All others please ask. WARNING: Graphic depictions of sexual acts between two males, angst and incest. Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they are the property of JRR Tolkien and his estate, and I am sure he would be horrified if he read this… Feedback: If you like, larienelengasse@yahoo.com Author's Notes: Eighth and final story in the "Love in a Time of War" arc. Set in the Fourth Age, in Valinor, after the departure of the last of the members of the Fellowship. The title is taken from Hamlet's soliloquy, "To Be or Not To Be". Many thanks to Claudio for his Quenya name generator on the Elf Fetish website for "Síreranu", hopefully I didn't mess up in the construction. Summary: Legolas gives himself to Síreranu and has a disturbing dream. Legolas moaned into his lover's kiss as Síreranu's hands caressed his bare skin, sliding the robe he wore off his shoulders. He held Síreranu's face in his hands as he drank from the Vanya's mouth, each caress of his lover's tongue inflaming his desire. Arching into Síreranu's embrace, he felt the press of his lover's arousal against his own. Silken, rigid, hot flesh and the smell of musk surrounded his senses, driving away all thoughts except one: he needed Síreranu inside him; he needed to surrender to the call that had haunted him for so very many years. They moved to the bed. He could sense the apprehension in Síreranu mingled with his own and with the mutual surety that this was right, that this was how they were both meant to be. Things were happening very fast, too fast some might have said, but Legolas had never been one to do what he was told. His lover's hands, strong hands that both commanded and reassured, touched him in ways that he had never been touched before. Soft caresses were mingled with possessive squeezes, it was as if Síreranu was both claiming and asking permission at once. He was lost, as he had been from the very start, lost to eyes that saw him for who he was and that were illuminated with both love and understanding. His Vanya was beautiful, more beautiful than anyone he had ever seen before. Síreranu was perfect, in both form and spirit. It was as if the Valar had seen into his mind and made for him the perfect lover, the one that could have only existed in his dreams. Oiled fingers breached his body and he hissed in response. It had been a long time since he had allowed one to claim him, a long time since he had joined with another in this most intimate of ways. His lover prepared him well, taking great care and time to be sure that the experience would be one of pleasure only. Legolas waited, lost in the silken glide of Síreranu's arousal between his legs, in the warmth of his Vanya's body pressed against his back, lost in his lover's embrace. "Take me," he whispered. "This is but the last step in what we both know is destined to be." Síreranu pulled his hair aside, exposing his throat and shoulder. "I take you, my love," his lover murmured into his ear, "and I will keep you always." Legolas cried out softly as his body was entered, arching his back as his fingers closed around Síreranu's right hand. Filled and stretched, he waited for his beloved to move, waited for the sensation that would drive all coherent thought from his mind and leave him begging for more. Slowly his lover began to move within him. Síreranu was taking his time, savoring this joining of their bodies. Legolas reveled in the sensations that overwhelmed him, the scent of his lover's sex, the warmth of his body, the feel of his slick fist as it glided up and down his turgid length. His moans and cries sounded foreign to his own ears; he had never heard them before, not like that. Síreranu's own deep voice answered him in kind, low, rumbling moans punctuated by whispered words of love. It seemed to go on for hours; Legolas teetered on the brink of absolute bliss as Síreranu filled him time and again. His lover withdrew and moved atop him, gathering his legs in his arms and entering him again. Legolas wrapped his long arms and legs around Síreranu, his fingers clutching at the Vanya's back as the intensity of their coupling began to build. He locked his ankles and reached for his beloved with his mouth as Síreranu plunged deep inside him, crying out into his lover's mouth as fire exploded inside his body. "I am yours, I have always been yours," Legolas whispered hoarsely. "All I have is yours, I will give myself to no other." He felt Síreranu brush the damp hair from his face and he opened his eyes. Their faces were so close together that Legolas could feel Síreranu's breath mingling with his own. He could only focus on his eyes, the eyes he had searched for, the eyes that had always gazed upon him with love and watched over him his entire life. "And I belong to you, Greenleaf; I always have and always will," Síreranu answered. Legolas felt tears falling from his eyes as his release took him. "I love you," he whispered breathlessly as he felt his beloved's essence flood his body. "I love you," Síreranu's voice returned, echoing in both his ears and his heart. Legolas held him there, unwilling to let go. He wanted to keep him inside for as long as possible, to keep this bond forever. "Did you feel it?" he whispered softly. "I did," Síreranu answered. "Your heart and mine. . .they beat together now." "We are bonded," Legolas answered as he pressed soft kisses to Síreranu's jaw line. As his lips reached the corner of his lover's mouth he felt Síreranu smile, and he smiled in return. "My parents always wanted for me to marry well," Síreranu answered. Legolas chuckled. "You've married a king, my love, you cannot marry much better than that." "Indeed," Síreranu purred. "A most beautiful and wise king at that." "Of course, we must have a ceremony or there will be those who will never forgive us." "Of course," Síreranu answered. He slowly rolled to his back, carrying Legolas with him. "It will be a grand one, in the city where your friends and my family live. There will be music, feasting and dancing…" "We will exchange rings," Legolas answered softly as he tucked his head beneath Síreranu's chin. "Aye," Síreranu agreed. "I never feel quite as good when you are gone," he said softly. "It is only when you are with me that I feel complete and at peace." "I feel the same way," Legolas responded quietly as his hands caressed his beloved's chest. He sighed deeply and then laughed softly as he heard Síreranu yawn. "Mmm, yes, my love," he murmured. "We have both earned a nice, long respite." He closed his eyes and drifted into reverie as his lover followed. * * * * Tall, green grass flowed in waves beneath Arod's hooves as he galloped across the Vales of the Anduin. The entrance to the Elf Path lay ahead, and he whistled to his soldiers. Arod's shoes clattered on the stone bridge, echoing through the cavernous courtyard, and he leapt from his mount's back, taking the steps that led to the entrance of the underground passage three at a time. "Father!" he cried as he leapt into Thranduil's arms, swept up in his father's strong embrace and swung in a large arc. "My son has returned a hero," he heard his father murmur into his ear. "I missed you," he answered as Thranduil released him. "I missed you," Thranduil answered as he took him by the hand and led him into the caves. Steam rose around him as he sank into the hot swirling water of his father's baths. Alone, he rested his head on the smooth stone, enjoying the feel of the warm, mineral rich water as it sank into his bones and soothed his weary body. He heard the soft closing of the door, the quiet padding of bare feet, then felt the water move as his visitor joined him. Opening his eyes, he gazed into his father's sapphire blue orbs, so filled with love and pride. Legolas rose to his feet and stood before him, not resisting as Thranduil took him into his arms. "You must be sure," his father murmured, his deep, honeyed voice filling his ears. His heart was racing, his limbs trembling; he felt both the urge to run and the urge to surrender. Hands, strong hands that had always been a source of comfort, touched him in new ways, ways that both frightened him and aroused him. "You cannot have both," Thranduil murmured, his father's lips caressing the curve of his ear. "Wait…" he whispered… Legolas awoke with a start, sitting bolt upright in the bed. His hands were shaking; his heart was racing. He looked next to him and his beloved slept soundly, a gentle smile curving his lips in his reverie. Slowly, he rose from the bed, wrapping Síreranu's robe around him as he stepped out onto the veranda. He sat upon the swing, drawing his legs up to his chest and leaning his head upon his knees. His dream was fresh in his mind, the dream that never had come to fruition. That homecoming had never happened, because his father had died in Lórien. Deep in his heart he knew what it meant, yet he was reluctant to accept it. That truth had been the source of so many years of pain and longing for him. He knew that Thranduil could never have been both the father he loved and needed and the lover he wanted. No one could be both, because both could never be. To take Thranduil as his lover would mean to lose him as his father. That was indeed the source of the confusion that had plagued Legolas from the beginning. But now, his father was dead, no longer among the living. Yet, a form of him lived on both in his own heart and, as he believed, in his lover's form. Was this the answer to the question he had posed to Glorfindel? Was this why Thranduil did not return from Mandos' Halls as himself? "Legolas?" He looked up to find his lover standing in the doorway, unconcerned about his nakedness. He smiled as Síreranu approached, lowering his feet to the floor as his beloved knelt before him. "Are you all right? I woke up and you were not in bed." He reached out and caressed Síreranu's face. "I am fine, my love," he said softly. "I had a dream, that is all." Síreranu frowned. "A dream of the Hither Lands?" "Yes," Legolas answered as he nodded. "It was but a dream, no more." "Come back to bed, dear one," Síreranu said quietly as he rose to his feet. "I shall give you a more pleasant dream." Legolas allowed Síreranu to pull him to his feet and he wrapped his arms around the Vanya's shoulders. "I love you so," he whispered. "I know you do, and I love you as well, my precious Greenleaf." For the first time, that form of his name coming from his beloved's lips did not sound as it should, as he wanted it to sound. He shrugged it off and followed his beloved back inside the house. To be continued… Title: The Undiscovered Country, 10/? Author: Larien Elengasse Type: FPS Characters: Legolas/Síreranu (OMC), Glorfindel/Erestor, Elladan/Elrohir, Rúmil/Galen (OMC) Rating: NC-17 Beta: Fimbrethiel Archives: Rhovanion, OEAM, Mirrormere, Glorfindel of Imladris & Melethryn. All others please ask. WARNING: Graphic depictions of sexual acts between two males, angst and incest. Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they are the property of JRR Tolkien and his estate, and I am sure he would be horrified if he read this… Feedback: If you like, larienelengasse@yahoo.com Author's Notes: Eighth and final story in the "Love in a Time of War" arc. Set in the Fourth Age, in Valinor, after the departure of the last of the members of the Fellowship. The title is taken from Hamlet's soliloquy, "To Be or Not To Be". Many thanks to Claudio for his Quenya name generator on the Elf Fetish website for "Síreranu", hopefully I didn't mess up in the construction. Summary: Legolas introduces Síreranu to his friends. Legolas sat on a fallen tree and watched his beloved working the soil of his garden. He admired the beauty of Síreranu's body, watching how his skin glided over his taut muscles as he worked the hoe into the soil. "Are you sure I cannot help?" he asked. "Do you really want to?" Síreranu asked with a grin. Legolas grinned in return. "Perhaps not." Síreranu laughed. "So, my Sinda King is not a gardener…" Legolas laughed aloud. "Not really." "'Tis not work for me, my love," Síreranu answered. "This sets my mind at rest." "Are the dreams still plaguing you?" Legolas asked softly. "Aye. I wish I understood them." "I know someone who can help you," Legolas answered. Síreranu stopped his work. "Who?" "The Lady Galadriel." "I have heard of her; she is most powerful, is she not?" Legolas nodded. "She sees things, things that most of us cannot see. I think she can help you find the answers you seek." Síreranu leaned the hoe against the side of the house and walked toward Legolas, kneeling in the dirt before him and placing his hands upon his beloved's hips. "You are kind to think of me," he murmured against his lover's mouth. He teased Legolas' lips with a quick flick of his tongue. "You taste so good," he whispered. Legolas smiled as he wrapped his arms around Síreranu's neck, placing soft kisses upon his lover's face. "I should have told you sooner," he whispered. "I thought the dreams had vanished, since you had not mentioned them." "I suppose I am so accustomed to them that I have learned to live with them. They are less frequent when you are with me." He nuzzled his lover's neck. "And what of your dream? The one that caused you unrest last night?" "'Tis nothing, I have nearly forgotten it already," Legolas answered softly. "Are you sure?" Síreranu asked as he pulled back, his brow furrowed with worry. "Very sure," Legolas answered, hiding the discomfort in his eyes. "When shall I meet this lady?" Síreranu asked. "Upon the morrow; I shall take you to her." "I love you, Legolas," Síreranu murmured before pressing a kiss to his Sinda's lips. "I love you, Síreranu," Legolas answered, before returning the gesture in kind. * * * * Elladan and Elrohir stood upon the quay, watching as Legolas and his lover approached in their small boat. Elladan gazed intently upon the Vanya, seeking some sign that Thranduil's spirit resided within him. "He is most beautiful," Elrohir murmured to his elder twin. "Aye, most impressive," Elladan concurred. "They make a fine pair." Elladan smiled and squeezed his twin's shoulders. "That they do." Legolas smiled as he approached, hand in hand with Síreranu. "Elladan, Elrohir, this is my. . .beloved, Síreranu." Síreranu smiled as Legolas paused briefly in an attempt to find the best word to describe him; beloved was more than adequate. He held out his hand to the one called Elladan. "'Tis a pleasure to meet such good friends of Legolas," he said softly. "Sweet Elbereth," Elladan murmured under his breath before taking the Vanya's hand. "The pleasure is ours." He recovered briefly. "Legolas speaks most highly of you." Elrohir was convinced he was staring, but could not seem to stop himself. Not only was this Vanya extraordinarily beautiful, but also his eyes were riveting. "Indeed," he added. "We understand we owe you a great debt, as you saved his life. Legolas is most dear to us, as you must know." Síreranu took Elrohir's proffered hand. "Aye, I do, as he is dear to me. He is truly special." Elrohir smiled. "Special is a most excellent way to describe him." "All right, this is beginning to make me uncomfortable," Legolas groused playfully. Síreranu slipped his arm around Legolas' waist. "Forgive us, my love." Legolas smiled. "Forgiven," he answered as he placed a soft kiss upon his lover's lips. They turned and began the walk toward the twins' home, and Elrohir picked up Elladan's hand without a second thought. Síreranu briefly raised an eyebrow, and then decided that others' choices were none of his concern. Who was he to begrudge others their heart's desire when he had his own? "Glorfindel and Erestor will be coming for dinner," Elladan said over his shoulder. "Elrohir and I have prepared a room for them, as they will be staying the night. We assumed you and Síreranu would take up residence in your room." "So, I am meeting everyone at once?" Síreranu playfully raised an eyebrow. "Everyone is anxious to meet you, I have talked so much about you," Legolas answered. Síreranu smiled. "Trial by fire," he murmured. Legolas squeezed his waist. "They will love you, as I do," he answered. Síreranu nodded, but did not answer. It was important to him that those who loved Legolas approved of him, and he was not accustomed to being around so many elves at once, so he was more than a bit apprehensive though he tried to hide it. They reached the home of Elladan and Elrohir, and entered through the grand doorway. Síreranu looked around the stately and impressive home decorated with tapestries and lush draperies, elaborately carved furniture, and walls and walls of books and weaponry. It was so unlike his home, but bore a slight resemblance to his parents' house, less the weaponry. Quickly, they fell into a relaxed routine. The twins began preparing the meal, Legolas gave Síreranu a tour of the home, then left him to wander as he went to acquire a couple of glasses of wine. Síreranu paused before an open tome, thick and bound in leather, with tales and illustrations depicting the history of The House of Elrond. There were few in Valinor that were not aware of Master Elrond's importance long before he arrived. After all, Elrond was the son of the brave and bold Eärendil, and the grandson of Tuor, the only man to have ever seen Valinor. He was also the marriage-son of Galadriel and Celeborn, which in itself assured him a high place among the Noldor. The book lay open to a page depicting the crusade of the Sons of Elrond against the scourge of Middle-earth, Orcs. Síreranu was awed by what he read, that these two friendly, unassuming elves had single-handedly wreaked so much havoc amongst such fearsome creatures. Like Legolas, they were warriors, nobles, their whole lives and history were tied to a place he had only seen in dreams, to a life that was completely unlike his own. He suddenly was reminded of how different he was. How he never felt as though he belonged anywhere or with anyone, at least until he met Legolas. Still, this difference made him feel strange, outcast, in a way. His entire life he had been a loner, only accepting the company of a few close family members and an occasional lover. He had placed himself in that position, withdrawing into the forest and choosing to live alone. Now, he was attempting to re-enter the world of the living, to have friends and a life that included others. He feared the transition would not be easy. "Síreranu?" He turned away from the book to see Legolas standing before him, a glass of wine in an outstretched hand. He smiled and accepted it, leaning forward and kissing his beloved on the lips. "Thank you, my love," he said softly. "What is the matter?" Legolas asked, a slight frown clouding his otherwise happy expression. "I was just reading the book. Your friends were fearsome warriors." "Aye, they were, and are happy to no longer need to be so. They have spent many years in unrest; they have earned this peace." "No doubt," Síreranu agreed. "Has it been difficult for them to adjust? Has it been difficult for you?" Legolas paused before he answered. "A little, I suppose." He took Síreranu's hand and led him out to the veranda. "While our last years in Middle-earth were spent in peace, there was still the need to be vigilant. While Sauron and his minions had been destroyed, Men still had the capacity to be evil, and we had to guard against that. So while there were no wars, there were occasional skirmishes that needed our attention. Here, there is no longer any need for defenses; there is no need for vigilance. Sometimes it is difficult to remember that." Legolas placed his glass of wine on the balcony ledge, wrapping his arms around Síreranu's waist. "I am so happy you are here, my love. It makes me so proud to introduce you to my friends." "I hope I do that pride justice," Síreranu answered as he tucked an errant strand of hair behind Legolas' ear. "You already have," Legolas answered as he leaned in to give Síreranu a kiss. "Now if that is not true love, I do not know what is," Erestor murmured to Glorfindel. Glorfindel smiled and nodded. "Aye, my love, you can see it flow between them, almost as if they are lit by it." He grinned and cleared his throat. "We do so hate to interrupt, but we understand there is one among us that we simply must meet." Legolas and Síreranu broke their kiss and looked at Erestor and Glorfindel. "Hello, my friends!" He held out his hand. "Come, let me introduce you to the one who saved my life." Síreranu felt his face flush. "Legolas, please…" "It is true, is it not?" he answered with a grin. "Síreranu, these are my dear friends, Glorfindel and Erestor. Glorfindel served Gil-galad and Master Elrond, not to mention King Turgon in Gondolin. Erestor was also a captain in Turgon's army and served as Chief Counselor to both Gil-galad and Master Elrond for many years." "Glorfindel of Gondolin and Imladris," Síreranu said as he held out his hand. "'Tis an honor to meet you, my lord. I have heard many stories of you as I was growing to adulthood." "I can assure you, they are not all true," Glorfindel answered with a grin. Síreranu smiled at Erestor as Glorfindel released his hand. "And Master Erestor, I hear tell that there is no better advisor or negotiator in all of the Undying Lands." Erestor smiled and bowed his head as he accepted Síreranu's hand. "It is an honor to meet one that Legolas holds in such high esteem. We have been anxious to make your acquaintance since we first heard of you." "Thank you, my lords. I only hope I do justice to Legolas' description of me." "You will, my love," Legolas purred as he kissed Síreranu's neck. "It does our hearts much good to see Legolas so happy," Glorfindel added. "He has endured enough loss for a lifetime." "Aye," Síreranu agreed as he hugged Legolas closely. "I hope to change all of that, at least in some small measure." At length, the twins joined the foursome on the veranda, entering arm and arm and carrying a decanter of wine. "Our meal will be ready shortly, the pheasant has but a little longer to roast," Elrohir said. "Are you sure you do not need assistance?" Erestor asked. Glorfindel laughed. "By Elbereth, I swear you cannot keep this elf out of a kitchen! How the cooks in Imladris survived him is beyond me." "I will have you know I was far too busy doing real work in Imladris to enjoy the work of a kitchen, unlike some whose ‘work' consisted of gallivanting on horseback!" Erestor grinned as he protested. Glorfindel smirked and playfully rolled his eyes before giving his mate's waist a squeeze. "Of course, you are right, my love." "I always am." Erestor winked. After a short time enjoying drinks on the veranda, the sun began to set and the merry group of elves entered the house to enjoy the evening meal. To be continued…