Navigation

The Gateway

Beta: Half Elf Lost

Note One: From the time I was two until I was fourteen, I performed ballet. I had completed two years of pointe training when I quit, deciding that dance was not what I wanted from life. While creating a D&D Elf (named Erestor), this idea came to me. D&D Elves, while very Tolkien-esque, are also very different. They are smaller, more slender, and have specific eye colours not found in Tolkien's world. But this is an Erestor that intrigued me, and I hope he intrigues you just as much.

Note Two: For those of you not familiar with dance terms, 'en Avant' is a movement where the dancer moves forward.

1: en avant

He is one of them, but also not. All around him, eyes follow his movements, narrow with distrust and simmering hatred. He is a memory come from a past many had forgotten, but his eyes tell them that the past is never forgotten.

Ebony hair left long, loose to blow in the winds that seemed to perpetually flow around him. Skin the colour of drawn cream, pale but with a light that shone brighter than most. He was shorter than most of their kind, more slender, too, but these were not the traits that first drew Glorfindel's attention.

Most of their kind with hair as black as this one's have eyes the shade of the darkest storm cloud. Not this Elf. This Elf, with his raven locks and pale flesh, would capture your gaze with eyes that rivalled the hue of newly unfurled oak leaves. Sooty lashes ringed eyes that were unearthly -- as clear as any emerald in Thranduil's vaults and as verdant as the lush grasses surrounding Imladris. It was that gaze, one full of mystery as well as honesty, and the sultry sensuality the Elf exuded, which drew the Elda into a web of need neither of them could deny.

"Where do you come from?" he would ask the foreign Elf as they sat in his office, the light one never looking away from the dark.

Those vibrant green eyes would look up from the snowy parchment filled with flowing script. They would weigh an answer, gauge what Glorfindel was truly asking, and then they would return to their work as the husky voice finally answered him. "I come from where we all come from, where we will all one day return."

With obsessive compulsion, he would follow the Elf through corridors, into offices, or watch him as he read a book. One afternoon, though, Glorfindel followed him into an unused ballroom and was surprised to see their Master Bard seated upon a chair with a violin in his grip. In awe, he watched attentively as the oak-eyed Elf shed his heavy official robes, revealing a trim, lithe body with supple, finely defined muscles that rippled like waves in a lake. He wore only tight trousers and thin-soled shoes, but what he did as Lindir played a haunting melody moved Glorfindel to tears.

The quiet, exotic advisor danced to the melody, his arms gracefully swung around him as he kicked, leapt, bowed, and spun in ever-increasing speed to match Lindir's song. His wild, black hair floated around him, those eyes that spoke of the ever-green fields of Aman hidden behind closed lids as he lost himself to the tune masterfully played. He was beautiful. He was elegant. He was a living embodiment of the music that floated in the air as he floated across the floor.

In that moment, Glorfindel fell in love with the enigma that was Erestor.

What he had mistaken for an archer's slimness was actually a dancer's agility. His eyes followed every movement, rapt as Erestor wove a spell of eroticism that made Glorfindel's blood race. Erestor twirled and whirled around the room, his balance perfect, posture tight. After a set of complicated spins and leaps at staggering speeds, the dancer stopped, his intense stare centred on Glorfindel's half-hidden form. As soon as Erestor ceased his intricate dance, Lindir's melody also ended and silence engulfed the room.

"Excuse me," Lindir said softly as he quickly exited the ballroom.

Glorfindel left his hiding place, approaching the silent beauty. "Where do you come from?" he found himself asking.

A faint smile touched the ruby lips. "I come from where we all come from, where we will all one day return."

The smirk was a challenge, and it was one Glorfindel gladly took. He surprised both of them with his speed as his hand shot out and grabbed a fistful of the blue-black hair he had admired for so many years. He crushed their lips together, and did so expecting resistance. Instead, his eager tongue easily slid into Erestor's open mouth as the darkling's arms stole around Glorfindel's neck.

He had never felt such a burning urge to possess someone, and his hands fumbled with the ties to Erestor's leggings. Glorfindel broke the kiss as he stared down into Erestor's fine-boned face, shocked to find the dancer already fully erect, pressing himself into Glorfindel's waiting hand. With an animal-like growl, Glorfindel kissed Erestor again, just as wildly, a needful gnashing of teeth against lips. Their tongues soothed the sore places left behind by such a powerful kiss, but the heat was quickly reignited, and lips were soon swollen and bruised.

Glorfindel was not certain how they ended up on the floor of the unused ballroom, but they had. Erestor was splayed out on the polished hardwood, his thigh length hair fanned out like wings on either side of his slender body. Glorfindel lowered his head and swallowed Erestor's shaft without any preamble, sucking on the smooth shaft with unrelenting speed. He closed his eyes, focusing on the loud moans and soft mewls Erestor made as he swiped his tongue across the engorged head and dipped into the slit that wept freely.

The fingers of his hand that encircled the base of Erestor's arousal were coated with a mixture of fluids, and he was able to slowly press two of them into the tight waiting heat of his lover's body. Erestor bucked upward, pushing himself farther down Glorfindel's throat and the fingers deeper into his body. A shaking hand was tangled in the Elda's blond hair, and it tugged, trying to pull Glorfindel off the swelling shaft, which he did with obvious reluctance. He met Erestor's gaze, eyes once the shade of emeralds now darkened to the deep green of forest moss. The muscles around his fingers clutched at him, made Erestor's silent demand clear.

"We should return to my rooms, Erestor," Glorfindel suggested raggedly. "There is nothing here to prepare the way, and I fear not using some sort of oil would harm you."

Erestor reached over to a discarded satchel, his long fingers pulling something from its depths. With a fluidity Glorfindel envied in the Elf, Erestor sat up, his prize clasped in his small hand. He handed the pale brown jar to Glorfindel, a smug smile plastered on his lips. It seemed he was determined that their first time be on the dance floor he loved, and Glorfindel was more than willing to indulge the enigmatic nymph he had watched for centuries.

Glorfindel opened the pot of balm, assaulted by the scent of peppermint. Peppermint? "This might not be the best thing for us to use," he said warily.

"Tsk." Erestor snatched the jar from Glorfindel, scooping out quite a bit of the thick cream and rubbing it between his palms. The greasy fingers found their way to Glorfindel's breeches, swiftly parting the fabric to find the thick shaft hidden behind the suede. Glorfindel could not stifle the laughter that bubbled in his throat when Erestor's green eyes widened at the sight of his ample size. Erestor's cool, greasy fingers encircled his aching flesh, the peppermint instantly feeling like a thousand tiny pinpricks.

Glorfindel hissed, but his eyes were fixed on the tentative hand that could barely grasp his length. He had never truly noticed their size difference, but now he worried. Could Erestor even accommodate his sex? The Elf was several hands smaller than he, had to weigh many stones less, and -- dear Valar, Erestor's hand was talented! He forgot all his misgivings, the tingling peppermint and the practiced hand driving him toward insanity now dominating his mind.

"I need you," Glorfindel rasped out between hungry kisses. Erestor's eyes, heavy-lidded and glazed, met his. A silent agreement was made, and Erestor released Glorfindel's burning shaft. Gracefully, Erestor shifted so that he was on his hands and knees, his pert, perfectly rounded bottom facing Glorfindel. Glorfindel felt a wild urge to bite one of the upturned cheeks, and did so. The flesh was firm in his mouth, and he nipped playfully as he crept closer to his lover. As he applied a little more pressure with his teeth, wanting to elicit some vocal reaction from Erestor, he also began to push the oily head of his sex into the very tight opening.

And he received a reaction. Erestor took in a sharp breath, his back arching as a helpless croak slipped from his lips. Glorfindel did not halt in his plundering, instead thrusting more firmly into Erestor. When he felt the muscles surrounding him clench, barring him from further conquest, he would withdraw until only the fat tip remained inside. Then he would begin again, inching farther and farther until he felt his thighs meet Erestor's. The tightness was almost painful, and Glorfindel squeezed his eyes shut as those muscles fluttered around him. Erestor was panting, harsh sounds that reminded Glorfindel of a mare in labour, but there was nothing that could be done. Instead of whispering nonsense to his lover, Glorfindel ran his hands along the trembling back before him, up the heaving sides and over slim hips to cup the fullness of Erestor's backside.

As he ran his hands down Erestor's arms, his chest pressed close to the dark Elf's back, he could feel the shaking in the limbs. Glorfindel smiled, placing small kisses from the nape of Erestor's neck to where the crevice of his buttocks began, and then wrapped his long, strong arms around Erestor's small waist. Without warning Erestor, Glorfindel lifted the slight Elf up as he sat back. He felt his shaft slipping from Erestor's velvet heat and quickly moved so that Erestor's calves rested over his arms, his knees braced against Glorfindel's forearms. Had anyone been present, they could have seen Erestor's flushed, damp face framed by wild midnight hair, his emerald eyes glassy as his body tried to take in all of Glorfindel.

His legs were spread wide, his gently curved length bobbing stiffly, Glorfindel's sex buried deep inside him easily visible from the open way they were displayed. Erestor's head lolled onto Glorfindel's shoulder as the stronger, bigger Elf began to lift and lower his weight as if it were nothing. Glorfindel stared ahead, over the tangled mass of raven hair and into the mirrors that banked the far wall. He watched himself possess the limp dancer, fascinated as his shaft appeared, shimmering in the low light, and then disappeared into the gripping channel of Erestor's body.

Erestor seemed to be roused by the motions, and his own eyes opened and focused on the image before them. The glittering green gaze fell to where their bodies were joined, and a low moan issued from Erestor's throat. Glorfindel was riveted, intently watching as Erestor's left hand moved down his body. It pinched and pulled at rosy nipples, travelled over the pale plane of his belly, and lower. His hand wrapped around the sticky shaft and pumped in time with Glorfindel's inward thrusts. Glorfindel heard his own savage growl, as he was unable to look away from their coupling.

The dancer's right hand now moved along angles and supple flesh, but it passed the centre of Erestor's desire. Instead, in slipped even further down, over the tight sac, and beyond. Glorfindel cried out sharply as fingers teased his own pouch, danced over erect flesh when he was not pierced with it. A seductive, knowing smile was reflected and the Elda felt his shaft swell with impending release. He bit down on Erestor's shoulder -- hard -- and muffled his scream of completion as he pulled Erestor's legs ever wider, shoving himself as deep as he could into the quivering body, milky fluids seeping down around the base of his length where he impaled Erestor.

Erestor's sounds were just as primal, mewls and grunts as he was jostled, thrust into, and pulled apart. Glorfindel's eyes never blinked, did not glance away from Erestor's hand as it stroked with frenzied need over the dark-hued shaft. He moaned as Erestor threw his head back and cried out wordlessly, seed spattering up his belly and chest. Through their joined bodies, Glorfindel's tender flesh twitched with each squeeze of Erestor's passage. When the tremors ceased, Erestor fell back into Glorfindel's waiting embrace, pliant and spent.

"You will be marked," Glorfindel said tiredly, sweeping his tongue over the bruise forming on Erestor's shoulder. "Here and here," he continued, patting the cheek of Erestor's backside he had bitten. "Do you mind?"

A deep, husky chuckle came from Erestor's sweaty form as he turned in Glorfindel's embrace. He flung his hair aside, gazing up into Glorfindel's eyes as he settled on his lap. He leaned up, kissing his lover with tender abandon. When Erestor drew back, his eyes glazed lustfully again, it was Glorfindel's turn to laugh.

"I will take that as a 'no'."


	Navigation multi-part stories next		The Gateway Beta: Half Elf Lost Note One: From the time I was two until I was fourteen, I performed ballet. I had completed two years of pointe training when I quit, deciding that dance was not what I wanted from life. While creating a D&D Elf (named Erestor), this idea came to me. D&D Elves, while very Tolkien-esque, are also very different. They are smaller, more slender, and have specific eye colours not found in Tolkien's world. But this is an Erestor that intrigued me, and I hope he intrigues you just as much. Note Two: For those of you not familiar with dance terms, 'en Avant' is a movement where the dancer moves forward. 1: en avant He is one of them, but also not. All around him, eyes follow his movements, narrow with distrust and simmering hatred. He is a memory come from a past many had forgotten, but his eyes tell them that the past is never forgotten. Ebony hair left long, loose to blow in the winds that seemed to perpetually flow around him. Skin the colour of drawn cream, pale but with a light that shone brighter than most. He was shorter than most of their kind, more slender, too, but these were not the traits that first drew Glorfindel's attention. Most of their kind with hair as black as this one's have eyes the shade of the darkest storm cloud. Not this Elf. This Elf, with his raven locks and pale flesh, would capture your gaze with eyes that rivalled the hue of newly unfurled oak leaves. Sooty lashes ringed eyes that were unearthly -- as clear as any emerald in Thranduil's vaults and as verdant as the lush grasses surrounding Imladris. It was that gaze, one full of mystery as well as honesty, and the sultry sensuality the Elf exuded, which drew the Elda into a web of need neither of them could deny. "Where do you come from?" he would ask the foreign Elf as they sat in his office, the light one never looking away from the dark. Those vibrant green eyes would look up from the snowy parchment filled with flowing script. They would weigh an answer, gauge what Glorfindel was truly asking, and then they would return to their work as the husky voice finally answered him. "I come from where we all come from, where we will all one day return." With obsessive compulsion, he would follow the Elf through corridors, into offices, or watch him as he read a book. One afternoon, though, Glorfindel followed him into an unused ballroom and was surprised to see their Master Bard seated upon a chair with a violin in his grip. In awe, he watched attentively as the oak-eyed Elf shed his heavy official robes, revealing a trim, lithe body with supple, finely defined muscles that rippled like waves in a lake. He wore only tight trousers and thin-soled shoes, but what he did as Lindir played a haunting melody moved Glorfindel to tears. The quiet, exotic advisor danced to the melody, his arms gracefully swung around him as he kicked, leapt, bowed, and spun in ever-increasing speed to match Lindir's song. His wild, black hair floated around him, those eyes that spoke of the ever-green fields of Aman hidden behind closed lids as he lost himself to the tune masterfully played. He was beautiful. He was elegant. He was a living embodiment of the music that floated in the air as he floated across the floor. In that moment, Glorfindel fell in love with the enigma that was Erestor. What he had mistaken for an archer's slimness was actually a dancer's agility. His eyes followed every movement, rapt as Erestor wove a spell of eroticism that made Glorfindel's blood race. Erestor twirled and whirled around the room, his balance perfect, posture tight. After a set of complicated spins and leaps at staggering speeds, the dancer stopped, his intense stare centred on Glorfindel's half-hidden form. As soon as Erestor ceased his intricate dance, Lindir's melody also ended and silence engulfed the room. "Excuse me," Lindir said softly as he quickly exited the ballroom. Glorfindel left his hiding place, approaching the silent beauty. "Where do you come from?" he found himself asking. A faint smile touched the ruby lips. "I come from where we all come from, where we will all one day return." The smirk was a challenge, and it was one Glorfindel gladly took. He surprised both of them with his speed as his hand shot out and grabbed a fistful of the blue-black hair he had admired for so many years. He crushed their lips together, and did so expecting resistance. Instead, his eager tongue easily slid into Erestor's open mouth as the darkling's arms stole around Glorfindel's neck. He had never felt such a burning urge to possess someone, and his hands fumbled with the ties to Erestor's leggings. Glorfindel broke the kiss as he stared down into Erestor's fine-boned face, shocked to find the dancer already fully erect, pressing himself into Glorfindel's waiting hand. With an animal-like growl, Glorfindel kissed Erestor again, just as wildly, a needful gnashing of teeth against lips. Their tongues soothed the sore places left behind by such a powerful kiss, but the heat was quickly reignited, and lips were soon swollen and bruised. Glorfindel was not certain how they ended up on the floor of the unused ballroom, but they had. Erestor was splayed out on the polished hardwood, his thigh length hair fanned out like wings on either side of his slender body. Glorfindel lowered his head and swallowed Erestor's shaft without any preamble, sucking on the smooth shaft with unrelenting speed. He closed his eyes, focusing on the loud moans and soft mewls Erestor made as he swiped his tongue across the engorged head and dipped into the slit that wept freely. The fingers of his hand that encircled the base of Erestor's arousal were coated with a mixture of fluids, and he was able to slowly press two of them into the tight waiting heat of his lover's body. Erestor bucked upward, pushing himself farther down Glorfindel's throat and the fingers deeper into his body. A shaking hand was tangled in the Elda's blond hair, and it tugged, trying to pull Glorfindel off the swelling shaft, which he did with obvious reluctance. He met Erestor's gaze, eyes once the shade of emeralds now darkened to the deep green of forest moss. The muscles around his fingers clutched at him, made Erestor's silent demand clear. "We should return to my rooms, Erestor," Glorfindel suggested raggedly. "There is nothing here to prepare the way, and I fear not using some sort of oil would harm you." Erestor reached over to a discarded satchel, his long fingers pulling something from its depths. With a fluidity Glorfindel envied in the Elf, Erestor sat up, his prize clasped in his small hand. He handed the pale brown jar to Glorfindel, a smug smile plastered on his lips. It seemed he was determined that their first time be on the dance floor he loved, and Glorfindel was more than willing to indulge the enigmatic nymph he had watched for centuries. Glorfindel opened the pot of balm, assaulted by the scent of peppermint. Peppermint? "This might not be the best thing for us to use," he said warily. "Tsk." Erestor snatched the jar from Glorfindel, scooping out quite a bit of the thick cream and rubbing it between his palms. The greasy fingers found their way to Glorfindel's breeches, swiftly parting the fabric to find the thick shaft hidden behind the suede. Glorfindel could not stifle the laughter that bubbled in his throat when Erestor's green eyes widened at the sight of his ample size. Erestor's cool, greasy fingers encircled his aching flesh, the peppermint instantly feeling like a thousand tiny pinpricks. Glorfindel hissed, but his eyes were fixed on the tentative hand that could barely grasp his length. He had never truly noticed their size difference, but now he worried. Could Erestor even accommodate his sex? The Elf was several hands smaller than he, had to weigh many stones less, and -- dear Valar, Erestor's hand was talented! He forgot all his misgivings, the tingling peppermint and the practiced hand driving him toward insanity now dominating his mind. "I need you," Glorfindel rasped out between hungry kisses. Erestor's eyes, heavy-lidded and glazed, met his. A silent agreement was made, and Erestor released Glorfindel's burning shaft. Gracefully, Erestor shifted so that he was on his hands and knees, his pert, perfectly rounded bottom facing Glorfindel. Glorfindel felt a wild urge to bite one of the upturned cheeks, and did so. The flesh was firm in his mouth, and he nipped playfully as he crept closer to his lover. As he applied a little more pressure with his teeth, wanting to elicit some vocal reaction from Erestor, he also began to push the oily head of his sex into the very tight opening. And he received a reaction. Erestor took in a sharp breath, his back arching as a helpless croak slipped from his lips. Glorfindel did not halt in his plundering, instead thrusting more firmly into Erestor. When he felt the muscles surrounding him clench, barring him from further conquest, he would withdraw until only the fat tip remained inside. Then he would begin again, inching farther and farther until he felt his thighs meet Erestor's. The tightness was almost painful, and Glorfindel squeezed his eyes shut as those muscles fluttered around him. Erestor was panting, harsh sounds that reminded Glorfindel of a mare in labour, but there was nothing that could be done. Instead of whispering nonsense to his lover, Glorfindel ran his hands along the trembling back before him, up the heaving sides and over slim hips to cup the fullness of Erestor's backside. As he ran his hands down Erestor's arms, his chest pressed close to the dark Elf's back, he could feel the shaking in the limbs. Glorfindel smiled, placing small kisses from the nape of Erestor's neck to where the crevice of his buttocks began, and then wrapped his long, strong arms around Erestor's small waist. Without warning Erestor, Glorfindel lifted the slight Elf up as he sat back. He felt his shaft slipping from Erestor's velvet heat and quickly moved so that Erestor's calves rested over his arms, his knees braced against Glorfindel's forearms. Had anyone been present, they could have seen Erestor's flushed, damp face framed by wild midnight hair, his emerald eyes glassy as his body tried to take in all of Glorfindel. His legs were spread wide, his gently curved length bobbing stiffly, Glorfindel's sex buried deep inside him easily visible from the open way they were displayed. Erestor's head lolled onto Glorfindel's shoulder as the stronger, bigger Elf began to lift and lower his weight as if it were nothing. Glorfindel stared ahead, over the tangled mass of raven hair and into the mirrors that banked the far wall. He watched himself possess the limp dancer, fascinated as his shaft appeared, shimmering in the low light, and then disappeared into the gripping channel of Erestor's body. Erestor seemed to be roused by the motions, and his own eyes opened and focused on the image before them. The glittering green gaze fell to where their bodies were joined, and a low moan issued from Erestor's throat. Glorfindel was riveted, intently watching as Erestor's left hand moved down his body. It pinched and pulled at rosy nipples, travelled over the pale plane of his belly, and lower. His hand wrapped around the sticky shaft and pumped in time with Glorfindel's inward thrusts. Glorfindel heard his own savage growl, as he was unable to look away from their coupling. The dancer's right hand now moved along angles and supple flesh, but it passed the centre of Erestor's desire. Instead, in slipped even further down, over the tight sac, and beyond. Glorfindel cried out sharply as fingers teased his own pouch, danced over erect flesh when he was not pierced with it. A seductive, knowing smile was reflected and the Elda felt his shaft swell with impending release. He bit down on Erestor's shoulder -- hard -- and muffled his scream of completion as he pulled Erestor's legs ever wider, shoving himself as deep as he could into the quivering body, milky fluids seeping down around the base of his length where he impaled Erestor. Erestor's sounds were just as primal, mewls and grunts as he was jostled, thrust into, and pulled apart. Glorfindel's eyes never blinked, did not glance away from Erestor's hand as it stroked with frenzied need over the dark-hued shaft. He moaned as Erestor threw his head back and cried out wordlessly, seed spattering up his belly and chest. Through their joined bodies, Glorfindel's tender flesh twitched with each squeeze of Erestor's passage. When the tremors ceased, Erestor fell back into Glorfindel's waiting embrace, pliant and spent. "You will be marked," Glorfindel said tiredly, sweeping his tongue over the bruise forming on Erestor's shoulder. "Here and here," he continued, patting the cheek of Erestor's backside he had bitten. "Do you mind?" A deep, husky chuckle came from Erestor's sweaty form as he turned in Glorfindel's embrace. He flung his hair aside, gazing up into Glorfindel's eyes as he settled on his lap. He leaned up, kissing his lover with tender abandon. When Erestor drew back, his eyes glazed lustfully again, it was Glorfindel's turn to laugh. "I will take that as a 'no'."