Lu Vinui: First Love

Beta: Ilye

chapter nine

Imladris, Iavas - 1921 of the Second Age

Thranduil stretched, closing his eyes against the harsh light of morning. The Prince rolled over and stretched out his hand, seeking the warmth of his bed partner. When his open palm only met with the mattress, he sat up looking about the cheerfully decorated chambers.

The Sinda had moved into Glorfindel's quarters four months previously, though he had spent every night of the last six months in the Seneschal's bed. Thranduil threw back the coverlet, slid from the silken sheets, and quickly walked to the bathing chamber. He stood nude in the doorway, looking at the golden vision relaxing in the steamy water. "You left me again," he said, smiling when Glorfindel's eyes snapped open.

Glorfindel returned his lover's grin. "You know that if you wake when I do, you will demand to bathe with me and I will be late for the patrol." Glorfindel raised an eyebrow. "Again."

Thranduil slid into the water, sitting opposite Glorfindel. "You never seem to complain at the time, melethen."

"No, but I have a duty." Glorfindel crossed his arms over his slick chest and stared accusingly at Thranduil.

"As do I, but I allow concessions for your pleasures, my Lord." Thranduil covered the small distance between them, his voice dripping with seduction and his eyes turning dark with lust.

Glorfindel's voice trembled slightly as Thranduil situated himself on the Elda's lap, awakening his desire and setting his blood aflame. "My pleasure?" Despite the constraints on his time, Glorfindel wrapped his arms around the Elf-prince's waist, pulling him closer. "Do you derive no pleasure for yourself?"

Thranduil's lips were mere inches from Glorfindel's and he breathed his reply against the soft petals of his lover's mouth. "I derive great pleasure, my Lord." To emphasize his point, Thranduil thrust himself against the Elf-lord, bring their rigid desires into contact.

"I will be late if we continue this, pen neth." Glorfindel greatly desired to remain in the pool with the slick and wanton Elf-prince, but he did have his duties and he had shirked them enough in the passing months. "As much as I may wish to have you this morn, we must postpone our activities until tonight."

The Prince smiled wickedly. "You would deny me?" he asked, leaning in and nipping at Glorfindel's lower lip, causing Glorfindel to groan. The Sinda licked delicately at the slightly swollen flesh and waited for his lover's answer.

Glorfindel's eyes were heavy-lidded and he smiled up at his impish lover. "I can deny you nothing, melethron." Glorfindel brought his hand up to grip the base of Thranduil's head and brought their lips together in a brutal, frenzied kiss. After a long and thorough exploration of Thranduil's mouth, Glorfindel pulled back and looked into the glazed eyes of his young lover. "Besides, I am the Seneschal. When I arrive for duty is my prerogative."

Thranduil laughed and dipped his head for another kiss while Glorfindel pulled them out of the water. He settled himself on the edge of the large, sunken basin and sat Thranduil in front of him. The Sinda leaned back against his lover's chest and looked up into Glorfindel's eyes. Glorfindel reached to the side of the tub and grabbed a small jar of thick salve, ravaging the Prince's mouth while rubbing himself against the cleft of Thranduil's buttocks.

The Sinda broke the kiss and smiled at Glorfindel, feeling the movement of the Elda's hand against his back as Glorfindel stroked himself with the stiff cream. Thranduil's cock twitched, anticipating Glorfindel's slick, warm finger. The two Elves adored the times when they could indulge in lovemaking while in the bath. Glorfindel had perfected a solidified oil they used that continued to lubricate the way, even in the water.

Glorfindel quickly prepared Thranduil, watching his lover's face with rapt attention. Thranduil's hands gripped the elder Elf's knees, and Glorfindel took in the sight of Thranduil slowly grinding against his fingers. Glorfindel did not think there was ever such an erotic sight as Thranduil: head thrown back, flushed and panting his need. "Si?" Glorfindel asked, bringing Thranduil's attention back to him.

"Si." Thranduil shifted on Glorfindel's lap, turning his back to the Elda as he positioned himself over the rigid length of Glorfindel's desire. He sat quickly, shocking both him and the Seneschal, the sensation causing them to both cry out in the small, echoing space. Thranduil's breaths came in short, pained staccato bursts and he clenched his eyes shut while adjusting to the intrusion.

The Seneschal rested his head on Thranduil's damp back and willed himself not to thrust up into the Prince's tight heat, burying his length further. "Thranduil?" he asked, his voice strained and tight. When he received no answer, he leaned forward and saw tears slowly make their way down the red cheeks of his fair Sinda. He cupped Thranduil's chin and spoke more insistently. "Thranduil? Melethen?"

"Daro, Glorfindel," Thranduil whimpered. He had not thought the sudden penetration would be so painful! The Prince took several long breaths, slowly opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder into the deep wells of concern Glorfindel's azure eyes had become. "Non mae." Thranduil smiled at his lover and shifted, allowing Glorfindel to slip further into him. He let his head fell back, revealing the long column of his neck to Glorfindel's eager mouth.

Once Glorfindel was sure Thranduil was ready, and he had reawakened his Prince's desire, he slipped them back into the warm water. Glorfindel enjoyed the bath because it allowed Thranduil to gently rock in his lap. The deep, slow penetration would bring them to a shattering climax every time.

"Ulagor, ernilen..." Glorfindel cautioned, angling his hips up as Thranduil ground down on his lap, pushing his shaft deeper into the Prince.

Thranduil nodded slightly and slowly rotated his hips, groaning when Glorfindel's hand grasped his cock and stroke in time with the pace of their thrusts. Glorfindel twisted his hand in the long locks of Thranduil's hair, and the Prince let out a sharp cry as his head was pulled back further.

Glorfindel plundered his mouth and thrust more sharply, causing the water to slosh slightly. He mirrored every push of his hips with a thrust of his tongue into the sweet cavern of Thranduil's willing mouth. The Elda took the weight of Thranduil upon him, allowing the Elf in his lap to lie against his chest. This gave Glorfindel the ability to withdraw further, using longer strokes both within the Prince's passage and on his hard length.

The younger Elf brought his hands up and back, gripping Glorfindel's neck as his body was repeatedly breached and he was driven closer and closer to his release. "Glorfindel," he panted against the slick skin of Glorfindel's neck.

The Elda chuckled. "Aye, gellen?"

"Ir iâ na tolel, hîren." Thranduil's eyes were closed and his head lolled on Glorfindel's shoulder, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

Glorfindel hissed in Thranduil's ears as his groin tightened with impending release. "Tolo! Si, Thranduil!" He squeezed his hand around Thranduil's cock, milking the shaft and pulling the Prince's orgasm from him.

Thranduil cried out, his whole body tensing as he spent himself over Glorfindel's hand, his fluids mixing with the soapy water. As soon as his body clenched, he felt Glorfindel's seed fill him, the deep, long moan issuing from his lover causing shudders to travel down his spine.

The room was filled with gasps and gentle words as the two Elves came down from their sensual high. Thranduil turned his head and smiled sleepily at Glorfindel. "Hannon chen."

Glorfindel nodded his head and brought his lips to Thranduil's in a brief kiss. "Now, off me so I may finish my bath and be off to perform my duties for Lord Elrond."

Thranduil moved off Glorfindel's lap and dipped his head under the water, wetting his hair thoroughly. When he resurfaced, he smiled brightly. "Do you think you could perform again so quickly?"

The Seneschal rolled his eyes and splashed water at the laughing Elf-prince. "Out!"

---

Erestor turned the lamp down low and disrobed. The early autumn breeze wafted through the open balcony doors, and Erestor smiled. He did not know such peace as when he stood, nude, inhaling the refreshing night air. The Councilor could say, with all certainty, that he was happy. It had been too long since he had felt so content and so at ease with himself.

The Noldo turned from the view of the vast woodland of Imladris, slid beneath the crisp white sheets, and rested his head on the soft down pillow. He faced away from the balcony, staring at the empty space beside him. A frown marred Erestor's usually serene expression. He missed Lothvaen. The younger Elf had been the catalyst in his life; he had upended everything Erestor knew and expected to be thanked for it. The plum-eyed Councilor had captured Erestor's heart and never offered apologies. Erestor sighed and rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling.

"Did you miss me, melethen?"

The soft, gentle voice flowed through Erestor and soothed his heart. Lothvaen stood just inside Erestor's chamber door with his hands clasped in front of him, smiling sweetly at the Councilor.

Erestor sat up and the sheet fell to his lap, barely covering his nudity. "Always," he breathed, his liquid eyes almost black in the near-darkness.

Lothvaen slowly crossed the room to the empty side of the bed, his eyes never leaving Erestor's as he slowly undressed. Once his clothing had been folded neatly, he slipped into the wide bed next to his timid bed partner. "Erestor, you should lie down and rest," he said quietly, lying down on his side to face the stiff figure beside him.

Over the passing months, this had become their ritual. Erestor would retire, though his state of dress while in bed depended on his mood, and Lothvaen would join him -- copying his love's choice of clothing. Lothvaen did everything within his ability to make Erestor feel at ease. He had not repeated the events in the bathing chamber that seemed like Ages ago, but he also had not ceased touching Erestor altogether. Slowly, Erestor had opened his heart to Lothvaen, but they had yet to consummate the relationship.

Lothvaen spent every night in Erestor's bed, but he did nothing more than hold the elder Elf, which was perfectly fine with both of them.

Tonight, though, Lothvaen sensed something was not right with Erestor. He reached out and ran his hand over the smooth, pale skin of Erestor's back and felt a slight tremble course through the elder Noldo. Lothvaen sat up immediately and turned Erestor's face to his. "Poica?" he said softly, having adopted Glorfindel's affectionate name for Erestor. "What is it?"

Erestor took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "Melin chen, Lothvaen." Lothvaen smiled sweetly and Erestor's heart sped at the sight. He would never tire of the look of pure bliss those words brought to Lothvaen's face.

"Melin chen, bevae. Uireb." Lothvaen leaned in and slowly kissed Erestor. He always let Erestor pace their intimate moments. Lothvaen understood the Councilor's need for that control and he would do nothing to harm Erestor. Lothvaen opened his mouth when he felt the gentle touch of Erestor's tongue. The younger Noldo withdrew from Erestor lips and rested his forehead against Erestor's. "Si, îdho, Erestor."

Erestor shook his head slightly, his eyes never leaving Lothvaen's.

Lothvaen lifted an eyebrow. "No?"

"No."

The younger Councilor sat back and cocked his head to the side. "Would you like me to get you some tea or read to you?"

"No."

"Erestor," Lothvaen said, his good humor draining away. "What is it you want to do?"

"I want us to make love." Erestor's hand flew up to his mouth and he knew he turned several shades of red. How could he have just blurted out such a thing?

Lothvaen blinked slowly and looked skeptically at Erestor. "What did you just say?"

Erestor cleared his throat and moved closer on the bed to Lothvaen. "I said I want us to make love." He looked shyly at Lothvaen through thick, dark lashes.

The younger Noldo felt his groin stir with Erestor's words. "You jest." He watched Erestor closely. "You... do not jest."

The Councilor shook his head. Erestor reached out and grasped Lothvaen's semi-erect member. "No, I do not."

Lothvaen swallowed visibly. "Are you sure?"

"Lothvaen?"

"Aye, Erestor?"

"Hush." Erestor closed what little space was between them before he could lose his courage and captured Lothvaen's lips in a searing kiss. Erestor moaned softly when Lothvaen's hands came up to cup his cheeks and his lover deepened the kiss. The Chief Councilor fought down the urge to take control of the kiss; instead, he allowed Lothvaen to lay him back on the bed.

Lothvaen's heart was pounding within his breast. He had wanted this for three centuries, and now Erestor had asked. Lothvaen was determined to make the experience wonderful for Erestor, to wipe away all memories of what was once done to him. The younger Elf felt Erestor tremble in his embrace and he gently pulled back to look into his lover's eyes. "We do not have to do this, Erestor."

Erestor nodded. "I know. But I want you."

Lothvaen searched Erestor's gaze for something, anything, that would tell him not to proceed. Lothvaen's body screamed for him to simply take the Councilor, finally make him his, but his heart refused to hurt Erestor any more than he had already been. When he was satisfied that Erestor was sure of his decision, he dipped his head back down to sweetly tease the dark-eyed Noldo with his tongue as he moved to cover Erestor's body with his own. Lothvaen had never tasted one so sweet and he wanted to taste of Erestor's lips all night, but he moved away and trailed feathery kisses down the long column of Erestor's throat.

Erestor wove his fingers in the long, silken locks of Lothvaen's hair, arching his body against the lithe scholar's form above him. Erestor's heart ached with the gentleness Lothvaen expressed as he kissed down to his chest. He had never been touched as Lothvaen was touching him and he wanted to give everything he was to the beautiful Elf that had possessed his soul.

Lothvaen smiled against the heaving chest he was tasting. Erestor tasted as he smelled: of sharp ginger and refreshing citrus. "Melethen, you taste like one of Celebrian's pastries." He drew the small, peach disk on Erestor's chest into his mouth, gently nipping at the stiff bud.

"A pastry?" Erestor gasped, his hands tightening their hold in Lothvaen's hair.

The younger Noldo nodded as he laved a path across the well-sculpted chest to the other nipple and paid it the same attentions. Erestor's body was slender and strong, though not like Lord Glorfindel's. Glorfindel's upper body was broader from centuries of sword use; Erestor was slim all over. "Were you not a swordsman?" Lothvaen dragged his teeth down Erestor's stomach, chuckling when the Elf-lord spread his legs so Lothvaen could rest comfortably between his thighs.

Erestor's senses were overrun with pleasure as Lothvaen ran his hands softly up his thighs. "Aye."

Lothvaen licked the hollow of Erestor's hip. "Why are you not as broad as Lord Glorfindel or Lord Elrond?" Lothvaen finally turned his attentions on the weeping pillar of flesh he had longed to taste again.

"Broad?" Erestor asked distractedly when he felt hot breath ghost over his arousal.

"Aye, your shoulders are not those of a warrior who uses a sword." Lothvaen swiped his tongue over the engorged head of Erestor's arousal, savoring the unique flavor of his lover.

Erestor tensed when Lothvaen's tongue touched him, bringing him out of his haze of desire. "I use a lighter sword," he said, looking down at Lothvaen. "Maedhros taught me a different style than that used now, where our focus was the point work, not cutting down our opponents with brute force."

Lothvaen noticed that Erestor's body had become tight as a bowstring, but not due to arousal. "Meleth?"

"I--" Erestor shook his head, not knowing how to explain the confliction he felt.

Lothvaen moved to lie over Erestor once more and pulled him into a kiss. "Trust yourself to me, Erestor," he said softly against Erestor's lips. "I will not harm you and I will stop the moment you tell me to." He had wanted to include the fact he loved Erestor, but after hearing how Celegorm had used the words during his assault, Lothvaen bit his tongue.

Erestor nodded and looked into Lothvaen's violet eyes. His breath was taken away by the depth of love and concern he could see in the younger Elf's eyes and he felt the sting of tears. Erestor brought their mouths together again and kissed Lothvaen deeply.

When Lothvaen drew back, Erestor's eyes were glassy once more with smoldering desire. He made his way back down his lover's body, leaving a damp trail of kisses in his wake. After he returned to his original position, poised over Erestor's arousal, he looked up once more to his lover. He only continued when Erestor nodded his consent and Lothvaen quickly engulfed Erestor's length. Lothvaen, knowing Erestor would thrust, pressed the Councilor's hips into the soft mattress.

The elder Elf's back made a perfect arc as Lothvaen worked his shaft with immense skill. Erestor moaned and writhed on the bed, trying to thrust up into the wet heat but unable to with Lothvaen restraining him. His orgasm was fast approaching and Erestor attempted to stop Lothvaen from completing his task, but failed. His release washed over him in an intense wave and Erestor trembled while Lothvaen cleaned him.

Lothvaen did not wait for Erestor to come out of his post-passion haze. He reached to the bedside drawer and removed a phial of oil Elrond had given him. The young Councilor smirked to himself. Elrond had encouraged the relationship, counseling Erestor to give himself wholly to Lothvaen. "Erestor?" he asked, grabbing two pillows from the head of the bed.

"Hmm?" came the languid reply.

"I want you to lift your hips up."

Erestor regarded Lothvaen through heavy-lidded eyes. He could stop Lothvaen, he knew, by simply saying one word. He could put this moment off for a while longer, could use his hand to assuage Lothvaen's need. But, in his heart, he knew he could not. Lothvaen had been patient and loving, giving and understanding. Now, Erestor thought, it was time for him to give. He lifted his hips off the bed and felt the cool fabric of the pillows Lothvaen slid beneath him.

"I will stop, melethen, if you ask me," Lothvaen said quietly, stroking the quivering thighs of his lover. "I do not wish to take you while you fear my actions."

"I wish for you to have me, Lothvaen," Erestor said, on the verge of tears. He was so full of love for the slight Elf touching him and he wanted to be possessed by him.

Lothvaen nodded and opened the phial. "I will try and be as gentle as possible. Just breathe deeply and trust me." Lothvaen poured a generous amount of fluid on his hand and reached out for the exposed opening to Erestor's body. When his finger touched the sensitive flesh, Erestor tensed noticeably and Lothvaen paused. "Continue?"

Erestor choked out a reply around his fear. "Continue." The finger slid past the muscle that endeavored to keep Lothvaen out and Erestor knew he was far too tense. Erestor groaned when Lothvaen took his length back into his mouth, slowly teasing it back to hardness. Erestor was sufficiently distracted, and he felt his body relax into the caresses Lothvaen bestowed.

The preparation seemed painstakingly slow to Lothvaen, but the younger Noldo found untapped reserves of patience to draw upon. He could tell Erestor was fighting to remain relaxed, but the task wasn't always easy. Lothvaen took special care to pause often to allow Erestor's body to adjust to the intrusion, warned Erestor each time he was about to do something new such as insert another finger, and asked Erestor at each step of the way if the older Elf was comfortable enough to proceed. The entire process took time, but the look of adoration and trust shining in Erestor's eyes was enough to make it time well spent.

By the time Lothvaen had his well-lubricated member positioned at the entrance to Erestor's body, the Councilor was once again trembling with desire. "Are you ready, melethen?" Lothvaen asked, kissing Erestor's lips, cheeks and neck.

Erestor nodded. He was as ready as he could be for this moment.

Lothvaen pushed forward, reining in his desire to simply push his way into the tightness of Erestor's welcoming body. He took great care, slowly sliding forward, inch by inch, watching his lover's face for any sign of discomfort.

Erestor had never expected the extreme sense of fullness as Lothvaen finally stilled within him. He had been anticipating pain, but Lothvaen had been sure to prepare him well and all he felt was the throb of Lothvaen's length and his own unabated desire. Erestor shifted his hips, moving against Lothvaen, and the Elf atop him moaned with the movement.

The younger Elf began to move, controlling his thrusts to prevent as much discomfort as he could. When Erestor began to meet him thrust for thrust, Lothvaen could hold himself back no longer. He made long, deep thrusts while stroking Erestor's shaft and whispering words of praise and love to the dark beauty that gave himself so completely to him.

Their mutual release came swiftly, and Lothvaen had never known a moment more perfect than when he filled Erestor, and Erestor's seed covered his hand. They lay panting and holding one another for several minutes, and when the lamp finally sputtered and the light died, Lothvaen separated himself from his lover's body. Lothvaen gingerly pulled the pillows from beneath Erestor and retrieved a cloth to clean them. When they were both comfortable and the evidence of their lovemaking had been wiped away, Lothvaen drew Erestor into his arms and kissed his forehead.

"Are you all right, Erestor?" he asked, relishing the sated and satisfied feeling he was experiencing in the wake of their intimacy.

Erestor looked up into Lothvaen's eyes and smiled blissfully. "Aye, melethen, I am well."

And, Erestor thought to himself, he truly was.